The Necessary Evil
by Ana-Christina
Summary: Yes, a retelling of the game. Has: grammar&punctuation, length, sarcasm, focus on other KotOR characters, LSF Revan. Doesn't have: character bashing, the beautiful, perky, heroic, loved by everyone PC who does all the quests & outshines everyone else.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer & A/N**: No ownership, profit and / or disrespect intended from my part. The plot and characters from _Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic _were created by and belong to BioWare and LucasArts, so everything that sounds familiar is theirs. What doesn't, including the occasional typo, is entirely mine. If you spot any mistake, please point it out to me so that I can correct it. I love any kind of feedback, as most of us do, I am sure. :)

**Chapter 1 - In Which Lady Luck Tends to Other Mortals**

_When Carth Onasi entered Admiral Dodonna's office, he noticed the faint trace of something suspiciously similar to relief in her eyes. As he covered the short distance between the door and the desk in a couple of long strides, he wondered if, in spite of his many years of service in the Republic Fleet, she had doubted that he would come. After all, it was not like he had not entertained the idea - even if only for a short while - in the aftermath of the rather sudden way in which they had revoked his command of the ship Valiant and their lack of any kind of explanation for the gesture. _

_There was a time when he would have put his precious blaster at stake on the fact that his reliability and willingness to serve the Republic were as solid and permanent as the ancient tombs on Korriban. Four years after the massacre at Telos and less than a fortnight after his reluctant hand-over of the Valiant's command, he did not feel so sure any more. Not that his loyalty was in any way less firm than what it used to be, no; but he felt more and more aware of how he now continued primarily because he was just going through the motions, subtle flickers of warm light having replaced the fierce, blazing, almost frightening love for the Republic that used to animate him. _

_'I am delighted to see you, Carth.' _

_He smiled, but he did not let it reach his eyes. 'As am I, Admiral.' _

_'Please, have a seat. There is a matter of utmost importance that we must discuss.' As he sat down in the chair in front of her, she continued to talk in a warm voice: 'First of all, I want you to understand that what has happened with the Valiant is in no way a reprimand for your performance. Indeed, it is quite the opposite. Captain Tovar was ready to be promoted, and given the... recent developments, we've thought it was more crucial to assign you to a post in which you could make more of a difference for our war against the Sith than you could in the Captain's chair on the Valiant.' _

_Carth, who had been more or less convinced that his summoning in the Admiral's office was bound to end in his reassignment to a remote outpost at the Republic's periphery, snapped out of his apathy. 'Well, this is not exactly what I was expecting to hear, Admiral, considering the circumstances of my relief from command. To be honest, I am very curious to find out what could be more important than fighting the Sith fleet with all our forces.'_

_'I am glad you asked, actually.' She put down the pencil that she was absently rotating between her thumb and forefinger and looked straight at him. 'You see, we've been recently contacted by two of the members of the Jedi Council from Dantooine, who were quite... er... insistent about their need for one of our ships. They requested the Endar Spire, which, as you know, is one of our newest Hammerhead-class cruisers and also has a more than decent fighting capability. They additionally requested a contingent of Republic soldiers to accompany a group of their own Jedi, led by the famous Bastila Shan. They told me that they could not offer any explanations beyond the fact that all this is supposed to aid them in their mission to save the galaxy from the Sith threat. Well, that and the usual "Trust in the Force" speech.'_

_'I understand, Admiral.' But he didn't; not really, anyway. In particular, he couldn't understand why the Admiral thought that he was in any way interested in the Jedi's usual plots and machinations._

_'That's where you come in', she added, as if she was reading his mind. 'I want you to accompany Bastila's Jedi team.'_

_Carth's left eyebrow raised in disbelief, and his mouth started to speak before he could talk some sense into it: 'Admiral, do you honestly think that my babysitting a bunch of Jedi and trying to squeeze information out of their usual secretive selves will help the Republic war effort more than my being on the front lines, where I belong? With all due respect, that doesn't sound very likely.' _

_Contrary to his expectation, the Admiral sighed and gave him a sympathetic look, as opposed to the more natural - and perhaps deserved - snappy words he had anticipated as a reaction to his blatant questioning of her decisions. 'The Jedi Council members sounded both agitated and really serious. It seemed to me that they had good reasons behind their requests, even if they did not want to explain them. In point of fact, the last time we shared such a contact with them was soon after Revan and Malak's fall to the Dark Side. I want you to go onboard the Endar Spire with Bastila's team as an advisor. After all, no matter how important it is for the Republic to have a trusted person like you keep an eye on the Jedi, there's also the issue of Bastila's... er, lack of actual experience as a Fleet Commander. Despite her immense skill with Battle Meditation and her crucial relevance in this war, she is still very young and rather prone to make mistakes in her command of anything larger than a group of two Padawans, for influencing minds via the Force is no guarantee of leadership skills. So I want you to be there to help her, in case she needs you.' _

_Seeing as her reply was such a sincere argumentative plea, instead of the rant he had imagined he'd get, he felt touched that their longstanding friendship seemed to actually account for something. Carth remained silent as he considered his options. He loved the Valiant and its crew. He thoroughly enjoyed using the ship both to help the Republic against the neverending Sith war machine and to secretly try to pursue his personal quest for revenge against one certain Sith. However, he knew that a Captain once relieved of command would never get it back on the same ship, as the Fleet tried as much as possible to avoid the stress on the respective crew and the horrible amount of paperwork, which, unfortunately, such a reshuffle almost always caused. He could hope to get a new ship, but that was not likely in light of the Admiral's plans for him. _

_When all was said and done, Carth still felt like a loyal soldier with a fully developed sense of duty. More than anything, he wanted to help save the galaxy from Malak's threat, and he could see that right now his best chance to do so so was to accept the Admiral's offer. Or order, as he liked to think of it. 'Very well, Admiral. I'll join the Endar Spire as an advisor for Bastila Shan.' He smiled a genuine smile. After all, how hard could it be to guard, advise and report on a group of Jedi?_

*******

Only two weeks had passed before Carth Onasi, standing in his quarters, felt seriously tempted to reach across the time dimensions and punch his way too optimistic past self right in his smiling face.

The Endar Spire was not a beautiful star ship, no. True, she was fully functional, and she had quite the array of the most modern technology the Republic could offer, but she was still not what Carth would have called a ship to fall in love with. Perhaps at fault was how the Admiral had relieved him of the Valiant's command in favour of the more ambiguous position of advisor onboard the Endar Spire. Or perhaps it was the way in which the Jedi and their staff who had come onboard had demanded so many things, as a result of some unfathomable rationale he could not follow; like the lack of logic in that scout's transfer - a time and effort consuming journey to pick up someone who seemed to have nothing to do with the war between the Republic and the Sith. Or perhaps Bastila's idea of leadership was so antagonising that he grew to project his irritation with her on the innocent ship that contained her. Then again, maybe what really annoyed him and made him wish he could grab one of them by their flowing robes and shake until some answers deigned to leave their mouths was their utter indifference and downright refusal to give him even the smallest hint about the nature of their mission.

He frowned and stared at the view on the screen in front of him. The endless stream of distant stars had always functioned as a soothing sight for him. And if there was one thing he definitely needed right now, it was calm. As much serenity as possible; otherwise, he was pretty damn sure that he'd soon come to exercise his duties as an advisor by locking Bastila Shan into her bunk and not releasing her until she gave him a couple of much needed answers. After all, as far as he was concerned, the reality was that he could carry out his orders and perform his duty only by being fully aware of what was going on.

His chain of thoughts was brusquely interrupted by the flicker of movement that his eyes had detected on the view screen, near the ship's port section. It took him less than a second to snap out of his introspective stance and quickly investigate the source of movement. His fingers moved in a blur over the computer interface in front of him, as he activated the ship's main sensors to determine what was going on. The flow of data from them made him flinch: a squadron of Sith fighters were rapidly assuming the necessary attack position to penetrate the ship defences, apparently without having experienced any difficulties in their approach.

Carth's many years of active service for the Republic helped him instantly analyse and consequently extrapolate the most likely course of events in light of the current information. It became pretty obvious to him that such a small squadron of fighters was bound to have a much larger number of ships and soldiers behind it, and the invading enemies would soon overwhelm the Endar Spire and its crew. Whether a magnetic anomaly, or good old fashioned sabotage, or something else had hidden their presence from the sensors until it was too late was irrelevant now that the ambush was happening. He sounded the alarm and proceeded to make his way to the bridge just as the enemy issued the first order to open fire.

*******

_Ready to answer the Jedi Masters' request for an audience with her, Bastila Shan took a deep breath and started to make her way towards the Council's chambers. When she heard their voices apparently making no attempt to hide themselves, she hesitated and stopped in front of the door, wondering if she should go in._

_'Are you sure this is wise, Master Vandar?' Vrook's worried eyes skimmed through the datapad in front of him. He scowled and gestured with it. 'It seems to me that - using a very questionable basis like "necessary evils" - we risk more than we could afford in this war.'_

_'Life is too complex to ever be sure about anything. But Bastila is correct when she says that we have no other choice: we must proceed as planned, lest we would rather Malak's reign of terror continue undisturbed. We did everything in our power to aid her in this dangerous and inevitable quest.' _

_'I agree that it seems to be inevitable, and, quite frankly, even I fail to see another choice. However, sending a Jedi Master with her would surely help rather than hinder her, wouldn't it? I mean, the lure of the Dark Side exerts enough of a strain on her as it is, and -' _

_'A mere Jedi Master's presence would not block or even obscure that of which you speak, Master Vrook. Our efforts are better spent on Dantooine, training the young Padawans, whose numbers dwindle each day. Would you not agree, Bastila?'_

_'Forgive me, I did not intend to eavesdrop, Master Vandar', she said as she stepped into the room. 'I was merely waiting for the appropriate moment to announce my presence to the Council. Is everything prepared, then?' _

_'Yes, even if one cannot ever fully prepare for all the possible outcomes in a situation such as this one. The Republic has granted us access to the Endar Spire; the ship, along with a modest regiment of Republic personnel, will arrive in a a day, at most. Among them, the Republic war hero Carth Onasi has offered to act as your advisor.'_

_'My advisor?' When all four of them looked at her in understanding, she hoped that the Jedi Masters had perceived her shock so easily because they were - well, Jedi Masters, not because she was transparent in any way. _

_'Indeed. Admiral Dodonna has made all the necessary arrangements for him to come onboard the Endar Spire.' _

_'I have heard of him. I am, however, rather... surprised to learn that the Council deems the presence of such a well known pilot as acceptable in the circumstances of our mission. I thought utmost discretion was the top priority.'_

_'And that has not changed. Carth Onasi may be a familiar figure throughout the Republic officials and some of its citizens, but, due to the fact that his main activity was during the Mandalorian wars, the Sith remain quite oblivious to his existence. The Force is strong within you, Bastila, but you are young and inexperienced still. His expertise and skills will prove to be most useful for our mission, I am sure.' _

_'Very well. I trust in the wisdom of the Jedi Masters, Master Vandar.' Bastila bowed her head slightly. She determinedly ignored the nagging sensation that seldom things went as planned. _

_'The five Jedi who will accompany you in this mission are making the final preparations for your departure. We regret that we cannot send a larger number of members of the Order, but the sad reality is that, even if we had the numbers to afford it, our desire for secrecy would prevent the possibility in question. They do not know all the details, but they do know all that is necessary for them to carry out their orders. Together with them and the Republic crew who is already onboard the Endar Spire, you will take the ship and head towards Omwat's orbit, where, two weeks from now, your... subordinate will await for the Endar Spire to pick her up from the ship she is currently on. By the time you meet her, she'll have just finished her mission of exploration on that planet, and you'll arrive just in time to request her transfer on the Endar Spire, under your command.'_

_'Has there been any intelligence regarding the outcome of our... intervention?'_

_'Not that I know of, Master Dorak. In these extreme circumstances, we should assume that no news is good news. Unless Bastila can tell us otherwise...?'_

_'I have not felt anything for the past two months. The distance could play a role, of course, but I believe that anything out of the ordinary would have created some sort of effect.'_

_'I see.' Master Vrook frowned and returned his gaze to the datapad in front of him, while he continued to speak. 'I do not enjoy being in the dark, so I feel very troubled by this situation.'_

_'I believe we all do. Even so, we are past the point of no return. There are hardly any ways for us to retreat now.' As she watched how he continued to stare at his datapad, Bastila felt a small non-Jedi temptation to snatch it off his hands and see what was so bloody fascinating about it. She folded her arms instead._

_'Yes, I believe you have made this point quite a few times already. You are most persuasive with it, I have to admit. Nevertheless,' he continued, addressing the other Jedi Masters, 'I trust that the plan to return to Dantooine as soon as Bastila picks up her subordinate is still in effect?'_

_'Of course. When Bastila arrives, she will give us a complete report of the situation, and we stand ready to act accordingly, as per the new information. By then, the clues that we hope for will have started to manifest themselves. I only wish that any surprises we might come across will be pleasant', added the Twilek Jedi Master, who had remained silent until that moment._

_'So do we, Master Zhar. So do we. The path we have chosen to walk seems to be a convoluted one, and we ask Bastila to undertake a great number of risks, in spite of how vital she is for our war against the Sith menace. Still, we must all trust that the Force will be with us.'_

*******

'Have you felt that? It was a disturbance in the Force. Something is happening!'

Two Jedi in green coloured robes rushed to the agitated brunette's desk. 'We've felt something, too. Are you all right, Bastila? Your skin is very pale.'

'No, I am not all right. Something terrible is going to happen very soon. Find the other Jedi and get to the bridge. This ship will need all the defence it can get. The Sith are coming.' As she finished speaking, the alarm sounded, and the first effects of the enemy laser cannons shook the walls and floor.

'We can't just leave you here. You're the Republic's best hope for a victory; without you, they stand no chance against Malak's fleet. We have to get you to the escape pods. Come!' That said, one of the Jedi approached Bastila and tried to get her off the chair she was in.

'No.' Bastila moved away from the Jedi's hand. 'I must remain here. It is vital that our passenger and as many members of the crew as possible survive this attack. My Battle Meditation will provide us with the precious time we need. I'll seal the door from within once you're gone.'

'That won't provide much help against an entire squadron of Sith and Dark Jedi determined to capture you.'

'There won't be any need for it. I promise I'll head towards the escape pods as soon as I am sure that I have done everything in my power to achieve a somewhat positive result in such circumstances. Be sensible: I'm sure you can feel them coming, too, and you know that their numbers are huge. Now go and do not argue my orders any more.'

She watched the other two Jedi as they exchanged a sympathetic look; she hoped they were fully aware that there existed no way for them to persuade her out of something she felt so determined to do. They nodded slightly and exited her quarters to carry out her dispositions. As soon as they were out, Bastila activated her personal communicator. To her frustration, she couldn't reach Carth on his own device.

She snorted; she was pretty sure that in the aftermath of their most recent... discussion from opposite sides of the ship via comm links - she still hesitated to call it for the shouting match that it was - he did not have the time or the inclination to replace the broken communicator after he had smashed it on his room's wall a couple of hours ago. At least, she thought he had destroyed it; she could think of no other way to explain the static she had received at the end of their exchange. '_Such an unreasonable man, really. I thought that my request for a glass of blue milk warmed at room's temperature at the end of our discussion was obviously a diplomatic and subtle way to remind him that his only justified interest in my mission should be in following my orders and tending to my requests. But no, he has to meddle everywhere as if it was his right to do so..._' As her mind raced in recollection of the recent, most distressing conversation with Carth Onasi, Bastila finally managed to focus enough to get in contact with the only other person onboard to whom she could appeal.

'This is Bastila Shan. Ensign Ulgo, please come immediately to my quarters. Yes, I know we are under attack', she replied in a miffed voice to the ensign's comment, 'that's why I need you to be here five minutes ago. Bastila out.' She activated her personal computer and accessed the ship's main view screen for a tactical display of the enemy forces in relation to the Endar Spire. Pacing before it and reciting the Jedi code, she calmly did her best to see what options to aid the ship against the Sith ambush she had. The door opened.

'What took you so long? Wait, that was a rhetorical question', she interrupted him before he had the chance to answer her. 'The members of my Jedi escort are on their way to the bridge, to help protect the Endar Spire against the attackers. I need someone I can trust to go to the scout whose transfer I requested a couple of days ago. She works the opposite shift from you, so it's quite likely that you'll find her in your common bunk. If that doesn't work, use this access code to track her via the ship's life support systems.' She handed one of the datapads on her desk to him. 'Find her and make sure she gets to the escape pods as soon as possible. Yes, what is it?'

Although he seemed to be slightly taken aback that she could anticipate his question before he had even finished thinking of it, Trask Ulgo stared at her and told her exactly what was on his mind. 'She's a scout. She should be able to take care of herself. My main duty is towards the Endar Spire and its crew. I can be more useful guarding the ship from the invaders than acting as an improvised escort like you want me to.'

'What? Unbelievable! Does no one here obey orders from their commanding officers without cheeky comments?' Bastila sighed; she was tired, and anger was creeping around her like a velvet cloak, inviting her to just give in. She could have easily used the Force on him, and that would have saved her a lot of time and trouble. But the voices of her Masters scolded her in her mind for merely entertaining such dangerous thoughts, which could so easily lead to the Dark Side. So she tried to do it the hard way. 'The scout's survival is a key piece in our war against Malak. If she dies, we will join her in a couple of months, or, even worse, some of us will be brainwashed into servitude for the Sith empire. You do not want that to come to pass, do you?' She hated to beg, but she was also desperate. 'Please, do as I say. I cannot reach Carth Onasi on his personal communicator, I have sent my entire Jedi team to the bridge to intercept the Sith who are about to board the ship, and I must use my Battle Meditation for whatever little good it can do in these circumstances. You're my only hope.'

When his shoulders straightened and determination flickered in his eyes, she knew that she had convinced him. After all, how could he not agree with her, considering that a simple look in her now almost panicked eyes, who were deliberately not trying to hide the emotions reflected in them, should be more than enough for anyone to outline the grave situation they were in? 'Very well. I'll go and find her. But when I do, we'll come back for you, and we'll get together to the escape pods.' He nodded briskly and turned to leave.

'I will probably be on the bridge, as it will probably be easier for me to use my Battle Meditation from there.' She cringed as she tried to tell herself that it was not technically a lie, just a small... dance around the truth; after all, there was no harm in talking about probabilities, right? And it was all for the greater good because asking them to do a detour all the way back to her quarters was selfish and stupid, and surely Carth would most certainly be on the bridge, and he would get them all to the escape pods. She trusted that the Force will find a way for her to escape as well, if that was its will.

She snapped out of her thoughts when she noticed that Trask was staring at her with concern. 'Thank you. May the Force be with you!' She looked after him as he exited her quarters. A horrible feeling at the back of her head told her it was the last time she was seeing him. Refusing to let herself fall prey to the desperation at the bottom of her conscience, which was by now fervently demanding to be allowed a vote on the issue as well, Bastila dispassionately locked the door to her room from the inside. She then kneeled before the tridimensional map in front of her and prepared to use her Battle Meditation.

*******

_'I do not want to do this any more. Why must you torture me so?' Her voice trembled with the whiny tones of a petulant child, but by now Gavin knew better than to give in to the exasperation that the Voice filled him with, for he knew she was doing it on purpose._

_'You need these skills if you intend to be anything other than a corpse upon your next meeting with hostile alien species. Now please focus. Left -' He was interrupted by her eyes rolling so hard that he was surprised they didn't fall out of their sockets. 'Yes?', he drawled, mentally counting to ten._

_'I will __**not **__be a freaking corpse upon my next first contact with an alien species, probably because they will not react with hostility to my presence', she declared, flourishing her vibroblade at a dangerous distance from his heart. Normally, he'd have been pleased with her progress with the blade, except for the fact that he was pretty sure that she did not intend to penetrate his defence with that move; she just did it out of instinct, instead of actual proficiency._

_Gavin tried to be patient; he really tried. He was a good man, and he had only the best intentions in carrying out the tasks he had been assigned with. But some things were just too much. With a sigh, he sheathed his own vibroblade and tried to play it her way, with the hope of somehow getting to her in spite of her stubbornness via sheer force of patience. 'And why are you so sure, lady? It's not like I have, I don't know, twenty years of experience over you.' He knew she had won the mental duel of wills when she smirked at his mentioning her age. _

_'Ah, sophistry. I shall ignore it with dignity and instead satisfy your understandable thirst for knowledge.' Her arrogance was beyond belief, but he sighed and allowed her to continue only because he knew from experience that simply ignoring her would not get him anywhere closer to progress. There were less than three days left until he was supposed to send his report about her; progress would have been nice and welcome. 'You see, Mr. Anor, the fact of the matter is that your premise for my training is entirely erroneous. You assume that I will be put into dangerous situations that I will not be able to talk my way out of. You are mistaken. As a soon to be officially hired by the Republic scout, with years of unofficial field experience in computer hacking, demolitions, droid maintenance, and diplomacy, I am pretty damn sure I can bloody well face the next years of my life __**not **__fighting anything I do not wish to fight. I will, indeed, explore uncharted territories and places no one has seen before, but I will never need to sully myself in despicable brawling.'_

_He couldn't believe his ears. Surely she was smart enough to realise that not every situation allowed for a peaceful resolution? Then again, arrogance and intelligence did not always make a good combination. 'But, Livia, what about those encounters in which persuasive abilities will not be enough to let you get along with an enemy intent on brutally skewering you?' _

_'You do not have to be gross about it, you know', she shuddered. 'To answer your question: I shall just use a blaster, like I did all my life. No need to get up, close and personal, especially not when I could hire some mercenaries specifically for this type of occurrences.' Livia Regana smiled the genuine smile of someone who was very proud to have an occasion in which to state the obvious as some sort of revelation worthy of bows and curtsies; Gavin's inner counting had just reached 73. _

_'There are - and there will always be - cases in which a blaster would rather hinder you than help you. Try shooting a blaster at a rancor and see how far that gets you before it brings you to its mate as an anniversary dinner dish. And there will most definitely be cases in which you will not have the luxury to hire mercenaries to fight your battles for you. It is typical for a scout to learn how to survive in __**any **__kind of dangerous circumstances, and it has come to the attention of the Republic that combat in close quarters is something that your training apparently did not include so far. The Republic does want to hire you and send you to Omwat, but they won't do so unless I tell them you're ready at the end of this week. No', he continued, raising his hand in an attempt to stop her next diatribe, 'I will have no more of this. Raise your weapon and defend yourself, lest you want me to report to them that you will never suffice as a decent professional in their service.'_

_'You would not.'_

_It was his turn to smirk. 'I most certainly will. It's been fun, if one's idea of fun includes pointless bickering with a spoiled brat, but now we will get back to the business at hand. They do not pay me well enough to tolerate such outbursts of insanity, and no abuse of pleading kinrath puppy eyes will make me change my mind or give up on the training. Your record so far has been good enough for the Republic to grow an interest into acquiring your skills in its service. However, if you want to be a scout for them, you will learn to defend yourself in hand-to-hand combat, or you'll spend the rest of your career either continuing your unreliable, risky, unofficial missions for whoever has enough trust in you - like you have so far - or in a Republic office, doing dull paperwork, as I'll never tell them you're ready to work for them unless your performance in this class makes me happy.'_

_'That is just vile, Mr. Anor.' She pouted, but when she assumed her fighting stance, Gavin knew he had made some excellent points. 'It is just that it seems so damn silly to fight like this...' She raised her vibroblade and prepared for his attack. The weapon's balance still felt wrong, so of course she failed to parry his incoming swing and ended up falling on her behind, taking a piece of his training shirt with her. 'See, that is what you get for forcing me to be something I am not', she yelped while trying to maintain her focus in front of his attacks. His image was moving rapidly away from her eyes, and the floor was stirring... _

*******

Livia woke with a start, her hand still intent on trying to block an attack that did not come. The floor and the bed she was in were definitely shaking. The distant sound of explosions seemed to move closer and closer. The alarms didn't make her feel any better, either. 'Blast it, does no one sleep at normal hours around here?' she wondered as she rose out of bed. She looked around in confusion; weren't the drill sequences supposed to be over by now? When the door opened and a soldier entered her bunk, she inwardly whinged that she did not really wish for the answer to come in the form of a really handsome Republic ensign, who was now unfortunately exposed to her less than perfect chest. Distraught, she tried to get back into bed; perhaps the covers were big enough to make the bad dream go away.

'What are you doing?!' he yelled at her, staring in disbelief, as she was trying to coax the bed into swallowing her whole. 'We've been ambushed by a Sith battle fleet! The Endar Spire is under attack! Hurry up - we don't have much time!' Livia ignored him while her hands frantically searched under the pillow for her special bra. Sith ambush or no, she refused to even attempt an escape without it. She quietly sighed in relief when her hands found what they sought.

'The Endar Spire?' she asked absently, trying to buy herself time while her mind was anxiously attempting to think of a clever, non-obvious way to hide her bra in a safe place, where she'd know where to find it. She crawled out of the bed and towards her footlocker, clutching the bed covers around her as if they were some sort of protective shield, which was all that stood between her life as she knew it and the ensign's shame-inducing acknowledgement of her upper body, which, unfortunately, was at the moment clothed in normal underwear and thus deprived of her favourite bra's special aid. '_I shall definitely remain a spinster if he sees me without it. Just what was I thinking when I decided to place the locker at such a great distance from the bed? Stupid Livia._'

Trask, of course, only replied to the question that she had actually voiced. 'Did you fall out of your bunk and hit your head? The Endar Spire is the ship we're stationed on - this ship! You probably don't even know who I am, do you? I'm Trask Ulgo, ensign with the Republic Fleet. I'm your bunk mate here on the Endar Spire. We work opposite shifts; I guess that's why you haven't seen me before.'

'Um, I do know you, actually. Not that I stared at you during our initial debriefing or anything like that, no. I just noticed you and happened to hear your name.' '_Stop it, you are only making it worse. Also, footlocker and pertinent inquiries to distract him from what you are doing? You might want to get back to them_', intervened her pestering inner voice that never let her have any fun. 'Right, Bastila. Who is Bastila?' '_I said "pertinent", not "silly"_'.

She silently agreed to the mental sigh inside her head only moments after she had uttered her question, but at the same time, she was cranky and getting increasingly afraid of what was happening to even try to come up with a good excuse for her less than stellar ability to make small talk. He seemed to be oblivious to her internal dialogue, though, so she allowed herself a small smile, hoping that, in spite of daft questions and lack of curves in all the right places, a dinner with Trask in the crew messroom was still a remote possibility for her.

'Bastila's the commanding officer on the Endar Spire. Well, not an officer, really. But she's the one in charge of this mission. One of our primary duties is to guarantee her survival in the event of enemy attack! I heard what everyone's saying about you: you've visited planets I've never even heard of, so it's no wonder the Republic recruited you for this mission. But now's the time to prove yourself! I know you're a scout and not a soldier, but Bastila needs all troops at her side during this attack, and we have to make sure she makes it off the ship alive! So hurry up and grab your gear. You need to suit up so we can get out of here.'

Gobsmacked by his praise, Livia responded without thinking, 'All right. As long as you realise that I am more likely to get you killed than to rescue anyone.' She finally reached her footlocker and stuffed her bra in the small backpack that was just near the surface, next to her Pazaak deck, the draft of her report about Omwat, credits, datapads, computer spikes, assorted grenades and small droid repair parts.

'What's that supposed to mean?' she heard Trask's worried question behind her, while she was trying to put her black trousers and shirt on without attracting too much notice from him.

'Well, just that if you are counting on me to hit trained Sith soldiers with anything other than a blaster, then you might as well...' She stopped, taking into account the effect of what she was about to say. '_**So**__ not a good time to be honest about my... er... fighting skills._' She realised there was no time to get into cute excuses about why her abilities in a battle sucked, so she finished the sentence lamely: '... you might as well start to bet that my body kill count will be higher than yours.'

She cursed her lack of common sense again, but fortunately Trask was at the moment preoccupied with trying to open the door to the bunk, which, as a result of the ship being in security lockdown, automatically locked after he had entered her room. She finished dressing, grabbed her blasters, fitted her backpack in its usual place and waited for him to finish what he was doing, valiantly attempting - and failing - not to indulge herself in staring at how his horribly coloured - but beautifully tight - uniform outlined those muscles of his. 'Focus, Livia. Focus.'

'That's done. Did you say anything?' He shrugged at her lack of reply and continued: 'Let's go.'

'If you say so', she whispered, wishing she could sound as confident as he. She fell into position behind him.

*******

A burning console exploded in the Endar Spire's Captain's face as Carth opened the door to the bridge. The rest of the crew was in no better shape: out of the entire bridge crew, only ten remained standing, and they were all bruised and tired; many of them looked as if they had lost hope already. Silently apologising to the captain, Carth pushed his body away from the terminal and took his place in front of it. With a few quick moves, he reconnected the intercomm system and used it to summon the maintenance droids from the nearby room to repair the overheated cooling system for the ship's laser cannons. Beeping and whirring, two droids answered the call. They urgently assumed their position in front of the terminal, and their electronic appendages interfaced with it. In less than a couple of minutes, Carth had control over the ship's main weapons again.

Trying his best not to curse in fury as the ship shook again under the Sith's powerful ion blasts, he used the computer to aim one of the Endar Spire's dual laser cannons at the fighters that he could see on the view screen. He did not have time to feel satisfaction from the complete obliteration of the fighters because more of them were coming. A lot more of them. He knew that the deflector shields would not hold much longer. Even worse, the shields could not be of much use because most of the Endar Spire's sensor array severely needed some energy now that the full spectrum transceivers had been damaged. He used one precious second to study the ship's reports on life signs and noticed that one of the sections was completely unpopulated. '_Figures_', he thought. It was the sector that the Jedi had requested to use strictly for their training sections. Apparently, they were too busy to train right now.

'Redirect the power from the forward droid maintenance and sector 4D life support sections towards the universal sensor array!' As the bridge crew carried out his orders wordlessly, he inserted a couple of new commands in the terminal in front of him. When the astromech droid onboard quickly rolled towards him, an impatient beeping cacophony surrounding it, Carth instructed it to create a link with one of the ship's lasers and to use it to attack the Sith. He then retook his position in front of the other cannon's controls and resumed fire.

But so did the enemy. A dozen Sith ships gathered into a formation and opened ion fire in the same spot and at the same time. Out of the corner of his eyes, Carth noticed that all the life signs in sectors 4A through 4E had blinked and disappeared as a result. '_There will be time to mourn for them later_', he promised himself as he prepared to issue his next order. 'Disable long range communication sensors and life support in 4A through 4E. Redirect the energy towards the deflector shield.' The ensign to his left complied as fast as possible. While he continued to fire on the enemies, Carth hoped that the move will buy them some much needed time.

When some of the Sith ships started to literally fly directly in the range of the laser cannons he was pointing at them, he knew that borrowed time had nothing to do with it, but rather Bastila was using her Battle Meditation. All the annoyance he had previously felt at her behaviour evaporated as he mentally thanked her and her skill with the Force, which continued to aid them and inconvenience the Sith during the battle. He barely spared a look to acknowledge the group of five Jedi when they silently entered the room and stood by his side, watching the screen with the Jedi equivalent of worried looks, ie eyes slightly wider than normal. Then again, he did not need to: all his attention was focused amongst the stars in front of him, constantly devising new plans and tactics to make the battle turn out in their favour.

Twenty or more minutes passed, interrupted only by Carth's brisk orders and the occasional gasp from one of the crew members on the bridge. And then it all went pear shaped when, having managed to carefully avoid most of the Endar Spire's fire thanks to the ten other fighters that were covering it, one of the Sith ships managed to get close enough to fly on a suicidal track right into the deflector's shield armoured shell. The Endar Spire swayed again. Only this time it was so powerful that most of the crew fell off from their positions. Carth did not need to check the computer's reports in order to realise that the shields had fallen. A second burst of ion energy from one of the enemy ships headed in their direction. It hit the bridge, destroying the navigation computer and half of the bridge crew. Carth rose to his feet, wiped the sweat from his face and managed to activate the emergency communicator.

'This is Carth Onasi - the Sith are threatening to overrun our position! We can't hold out long against their firepower! All hands to the bridge!'

He looked at the Jedi who were standing around him. All of them knew what his words meant: they were about to be boarded. Grimly, every survivor on the bridge prepared their weapons.

*******

Between Carth Onasi calling all hands to the bridge and the dreadful amount of smoke, bodies and sounds of defeat around her, Livia was pretty sure that she was dead, and the afterlife sucked. She and Trask were slowly making their way towards their bridge. They had barely came across any Sith soldiers, with the exception of a couple of already wounded ones, whom they had dispatched easily. Ignoring Trask's impatience, Livia continued to display the attention span of a five years old kid in a candy store, stopping to search the pockets and backpacks of every dead body they came across.

'Why are you doing this?' he finally asked, after what struck her like a long internal debate on whether he should just go on without her, or drag her with him by her backpack's straps.

'We need the grenades and medpacs they carry', she shrugged, as she finished searching yet another body. 'I do not want to open the bridge doors unprepared only to be faced by a brigade of Sith troopers, throwing grenades and who knows what else at us. Do you?' She used one of the kolto sprays she had found on him.

'Well, no', he admitted, rubbing his arm, 'but surely we have enough by now? Listen, we have to hurry. This is just the advance boarding party. Bastila might need us, and time is of the essence because the ship will be practically swarming with Sith sooner than you could say "For the Republic!". We have to get to the bridge and then to the escape pods.'

'All right. I think we have enough by now, anyway.' She realised that she was making him nervous, but it was not like she could stop and explain to him that having something to keep her occupied made her hands not shaky on the blasters they were pointing at everything that moved except for him. 'Hold on, I shall scout ahead.' Trask agreed; he, too, had heard the agonising screams from the next corridor. It was pretty much obvious for the both of them that it was not the Sith who had just lost the battle; the red clothed bodies to silver uniformed bodies ratio around them presented itself as a pretty good argument for that assumption.

Several minutes later, Livia came back to find him nervously pacing along the corridor. She tried to hide the way her body was trembling and the deep pools of fear in her eyes, but she found it hard to do so. She settled for a whispered report. At least this way her voice did not falter. 'Eight of them, seemingly in perfectly good health. I used a damaged sentry droid's sensors to spy on them, and they have grenades, blasters and vibroswords. I do not know about you, but I feel that fainting is a good idea right now.'

When he took her by her shoulders and shook her, Livia realised how afraid he was that she might follow through with her promise. 'Listen to me. If we do not get to the bridge, then we're dead anyway. So we either think of a way to get through them, or we die here like melodramatic fools.' He regarded her apologetically in response to her hurt look, but, to her dismay, he did not back off. 'Someone has to shake some reality into you, and if it has to be me, well... It's not like I have a choice. Now, about those grenades you collected...'

They came up with a plan: he out of despair, and she because her mental checklist had just promoted Trask Ulgo to 'people I should really listen to unless I want to wave at them from the wrong side of this ship's window'. Together, they crept around the walls until they were just out of the range of the blasters, and then they each threw at the hostile group two concussion grenades, which knocked six of the Sith unconscious before they even had time to point their blasters at them. Trask carefully aimed and hit the still standing Sith with two fatal blaster shots, while Livia provided backup fire. He unsheathed the sword from his belt and calmly started to make sure that none of the fallen Sith were ever going to regain consciousness again. Livia watched him with wide eyes so unnerving that he finally asked her in exasperation:

'Are you just going to stand there and _not_ help me? Or do you somehow think that looking helplessly cute provides enough help as it is?'

'You know, I could do sans your shirty attitude, regardless of how much I deserve it.' She felt thankful for his businesslike attitude and sarcasm. The mild indignation that they had caused was much easier to internally deal with than the foreboding that had haunted her until that moment. She stuck her tongue out at him, and then she reluctantly unsheathed her vibroblade, kneeled before the unconscious bodies, closed her eyes, and stabbed in front of her.

Trask seemed to be amused despite himself. 'You didn't have much training, did you? You'll never get the job done unless you open your eyes. Not to mention that you might put me to rest instead of them, you know.'

She opened her eyes and attempted a reassurring smile. She failed miserably, so she settled for a shrug instead. 'I did have one week of special training for combat in close quarters with a Republic specialist. He was good, but not good enough to convince me that blood and entrails on my face are any more fascinating than I used to believe them to be. Forgive me. I just think that what we are doing here carefully hovers somewhere above the thin edge between "disgusting" and "repugnant"', she said, careful to stab the Sith in front of her in an almost surgical manner, in order to not get her clothes stained by blood.

'You're right. But we have to do it if we don't want to make it to the bridge only to find these Sith attacking us from the back. There, that wasn't so bad, was it? Now move!' Livia obeyed, but not before she gave a sorrowful look to the Sith backpacks that remained behind them, unchecked.

*******

'All right, everyone. This is it.' Carth took a long breath and surveyed the faces around him. How the hell did he get in the leadership position, with everyone looking at him as if they were expecting him to do a magic trick to completely reverse the desperate situation they were in? 'We've seen and heard their ships approaching the Endar Spire to board it. We know what's going to happen: their main groups will attack the bridge first because that's where the controls for the entire ship functions are; they will then try to capture Bastila. We have to hold them back for as long as we can. At least one of us has to make it to the officer quarters and get Bastila in an escape pod as soon as possible. There's not much time for elaborate plans, so this will have to do: ranged weapons all along; vibroblades only if it's inevitable. As soon as there's an obvious breach in their numbers and perhaps a pause in the amount of troops they throw of us, try to make it to the emergency exit at the end of the bridge corridor. From there, get to the escape pods and use your access codes to find your way out of this ship. Jedi Azalyn and I will proceed along the corridor towards the officer quarters. It doesn't matter which one of us makes it as long as there's at least one to get Bastila to safety. We'll then get to the escape pods ourselves.'

All of them nodded their acknowledgment of the plan, and then, as if on cue, hands gripped blasters, vibroblades and lightsabers, while resolute eyes focused on the entrance door in apprehension. The first group of Sith that had managed to get to the bridge was greeted by a rain of cryoban grenades, which made them all clumsily and stiffly stumble across each other in what in other circumstances would have counted as an amusing display. The bridge crew did not spare a second to laugh, as their blasters and thrown lightsabers made short work of them from a safe distance. The second wave of Sith was poisoned to death by another bunch of grenades. The third one learned from their colleagues' mistakes and tried to stay as far away from the door as possible, but Carth directed the crew members and the Jedi to throw frag grenades at them, and they were all knocked on their backs, dead or rapidly getting there.

The breach that Carth was talking about earlier seemed to have arrived, so he motioned to Jedi Azalyn and made his way to the door. When some of the Sith who had been hiding around the corner met him with blaster fire and vibroblades, he fired his blasters at them in return, silently invoking quite an array of profanities about their cowardice. Had it not been for the Jedi's prompt use of the Force, which put all the Sith in a much welcomed stasis, he was sure he wouldn't have got out of the situation alive. As things were, though, he only got a rather deep sword cut in his leg for his troubles. He nodded quickly at her in thanks and, limping slightly, he headed further south. The Jedi followed him after she had inserted the necessary access codes to block the way to the bridge behind them.

Luck seemed to smile in their general direction for a while, as they didn't come across anything they couldn't handle on their way towards Bastila's bunk. Carth was just about to comment on that cute break that they totally deserved when Lady Luck pouted, scoffed and then stuck her tongue out at them just before she turned her back in disdain. In other words, Jedi Azalyn's eyes opened wide, and her arm shot back to stop Carth from advancing any farther.

He restlessly glanced across the room. 'What is it?'

'A Dark Jedi. Getting closer now. He is coming our way.' Her blue lightsaber ignited with a hum, and her eyes narrowed. 'Go. Find Bastila. I'll hold him off.'

'I won't leave you alone.' Carth readied his blasters and felt around his belt to make sure that his vibroblades were in place.

'I know you're an experienced soldier, but this is a fight beyond your league. If you don't make it, then there is no one left to save Bastila. He's almost here. I'll engage him in a duel, while you remain here. When I say "go", run towards the end of the corridor and find Bastila.'

There was no time left for Carth to voice his disagreement because he had just heard the unforgettable sound of another lightsaber being ignited; this time, from around the corner. Like a graceful feline, Azalyn leapt in the direction of the sound, and the two blades of energy met in a dance of colours. Tense seconds passed while Carth waited for his signal; he hated every one of them with a passion. Just as his patience was wearing out, and he was about to disregard Azalyn's instructions in favour of facing the Dark Jedi's power regardless of the danger, he heard her voice. He ignored the pain in his leg and ran forward and to the right. He barely had the time to notice that she seemed to be winning, as she was bending over a paralysed opponent to deliver the final blow.

Many corridors later, Carth finally reached Bastila's door and muttered a couple of very imaginative curses when he noticed it had been locked. Whispering about Jedi wonder children and their lack of responsibility, aversion for common sense and control freakish-ness taken to frustrating extremes - not necessarily in this order -, he proceeded to work on the door's access codes. Five minutes later, he was out of breath and out of curses as his gaze fell upon Bastila's body, crumpled in a heap on the floor.

'Of all the stupid things you have done so far, Bastila, this has got to be a serious prize winner for the dumbest of them all.'

'I heard that, you know', she interjected into his rant before it got any further, massaging her arm on which he had applied a kolto spray and an adrenaline stim. 'I doubt that your approach to the idea of chain of command should be so flexible.'

'Yeah? And I doubt that you had some mysterious, Force-inspired reason to lie on the floor unconscious, in a freaking locked room, waiting for the Sith to get to you. Come on, I'll take you to the escape pods.'

'I lost my consciousness when I was using my Battle Meditation to help you, you ungrateful - !'

Carth, who by now had ticked her off enough times to learn most of the Jedi Code by heart, watched her lips move subtly as she mentally recited the first part of it. She then exhaled and further elaborated her thoughts in a voice so cool that it would have made the winds of Hoth yellow with envy. 'The ship shook so badly that I lost my concentration and fell on the floor. I probably hit my head in the process.'

'So I imagined.' He gave her a sheepish grin. 'I appreciate your help, honestly. However, the battle is lost now, and we'd better hurry to the escape pods. Let's go.'

Bastila made sure her lightsaber was tied at her belt and followed him out of the room. She wished the Jedi Masters had warned her in advance about Carth Onasi's special power, which seemed to consist entirely in driving her mad.

*******

Thanks to the fact that her visual cues were inexistent due to the huge columns of smoke surrounding every droid, every computer and almost every door they were passing by, Livia lost track of time and their relative position as they used whatever was left of Trask's orientation system to get to the bridge, wisely retracing their steps and trying a different direction whenever they came across Dark Jedi.

Trask stopped abruptly and pointed at the door in front of him. 'The bridge is just beyond that door. You should equip your vibroblade because there isn't much room on the bridge, and it's suicide to use a blaster in close quarters. Come on', he continued in an encouraging voice when Livia regarded him in silence, 'it is a very good weapon, made using a cortosis weave. It's strong enough to stand up against anything, even a lightsaber, so there's no reason to worry. We'll be fine, I promise.' Trask's words made relief wash over Livia like a blissful painkiller applied to an atrocious migraine. However, it only lasted for the fraction of the moment that it took for her to notice him switching his blaster with his sword and to thus fully process what he had just said, point at which she felt tempted to search the floor for her jaw that had surely hit it upon the shock.

'Vibroblade? Not bloody likely while I have a choice!' She started to back away slowly, shaking her head and more keen on spending the last moments of her life hugging one of the dying droids behind her rather than taking her chances with the Siths' ability to wield swords.

Trask rolled his eyes and grabbed her arm. 'You do _not _have a choice. Hear those screams? Those are your colleagues, dying. Those screams will soon be joined by our own unless we do something. And no, that "something" does not include running away back from where we came', he further specified, in response to the wishful peek she gave to the direction of their former quarters. 'Time is running out, and soon the element of surprise that our unexpected assault on the bridge would create will be lost', he added in a persuasive voice. The results of his efforts were still suspiciously absent from the party. 'Fine. I'll try one more time because if there is one thing I am sure of, it is that nothing will stay in the way of my resolution to save the both of us, regardless of wimpy women who refuse to listen to common sense. Equip your vibroblade now, or I'll leave you behind me while I go fight the Sith by myself.'

'By yourself? What happens if you die?'

Because her deep fear of the Sith and the unadulterated panic at the idea to leave Trask alone now furiously battled for the place of honour inside her, Livia barely acknowledged the surprised look in Trask's eyes as he clarified his words. 'I meant that I'll do my best to clear the way for you, and then together - if I'm still alive - we'll continue onwards, to the escape pods.'

'Oh, why did you not say so: Trask Ulgo goes there, and the Sith turn him into a noble martyr, while Livia Regana spends the rest of her life cringing in agony because her cowardice led to his death? How very motivating: fight with me, or watch me die. Well, I hate to repeat myself, but you going there on your own? _So_ not bloody likely!' She inhaled and counted to five. When she continued to speak, her voice still trembled, but now threads of determination and resignation were interwoven amongst terror and anxiety. 'Trask, regardless of my rather... baseless exaggerations, I do know what you meant. And, despite the fact that a Sith battalion prancing around with their fancy swords is something I would rather read about in a book instead of actually witnessing in first person, your death due to my behaviour is a much more horrid thought to even contemplate.'

Livia had finished applying a couple of stims to her arm before she ended her last phrase. Before he had a chance to protest, she moved closer to him, used a stim on his arm and waited a moment to watch the effect on his body. When she was sure that his energy levels skyrocketed to the heavens as the stim was doing its job, she smiled the way a cornered gizka grins at its captors before they collect its valuable Tach gland, and she gestured with her vibroblade at him. 'You do not have to look so astonished, you know. It is not like you left me with any kind of choice whatsoever. After you.'

Like all the other doors in their path before this one, the door to the bridge had been sealed. Trask tried to deal with the problem as fast as possible, all the while keeping an eye on Livia, who started to tap her foot in annoyance at his lack of faith in her stubbornness, which was the only thing stopping her from an urgent flight back the way they came from. With a relieved sigh from the young ensign, the door finally opened and revealed the battle scene. Well, what was left of the battle anyway, because the few still alive Republic soldiers were being quickly put to rest by the Sith. Trask started the fight by throwing a frag grenade at the bulk of the Sith attackers; Livia followed his lead. Their actions soon caused a welcome decrease in the enemy numbers, so Livia thought that she had finally managed to impress Trask when he smiled contentedly after his eyes had rapidly scanned the room to count the remaining Sith.

Unfortunately, she did not have the time to bask in the glory of that smile because he then charged forward. Shuddering, Livia did the same, and that was when things started to go downhill, as her awkward swings with her vibroblade nearly caused Trask to lose an arm and a lung. Sure, she was not using the blade with her eyes closed this time, but this did not seem to help the situation any, because most of her hits with it still missed their intended target, often by coming dangerously close to Trask's body.

He ducked in front of his opponent's attempt to slice his neck and carefully avoided another incoming swing from Livia's vibroblade. 'There are only two of them left! Get back in the corridor and wait for me there!'

'Bugger that! I am not leaving you alone with these brutes. Oooooh, look! This is so much better than the sword stuff!' Livia beamed when the Sith she was fighting doubled over in pain after her right leg had successfully hit his groin. She poked him in the arm with her vibroblade. 'Still gross, though.' She scowled at the amount of blood that was now pouring from his arm. At the same time, he had recovered enough to block her next attempt to injure him. Livia was pretty confident that her failure to kill him while she had the opportunity to do so meant that now he had a more than decent chance to win the fight. Sparks flying, metal clashed against metal as their duel resumed.

'_When this is over, like a goddess, I'll gracefully land on the planet below, head to the nearest cantina, eat as much junk food as my stomach permits, drink eye-watering stuff until I forget that there are Sith in this galaxy, and then graciously allow for countless handsome thugs to take care of my every wish and command. Gah, that was close! Stupid Sith trampling like bantha in heat all over my perfect dream!_' She knew that allowing herself to daydream while fighting was another thing that would have made Gavin's hair grey out prematurely, but since it distracted her from the heat of the battle, she welcomed losing herself in it.

However, she did not forget the party pooper of her fantasy world, whose insistence she rewarded by viciously biting his left hand, which was trying to encircle her arm around her shaky defence stance with the vibroblade. She was very pleased with the result, so she bounced in excitement, silently apologising to Trask when her careless action forced him to avoid yet another possible beheading from her vibroblade. The movements in her peripheral vision made her aware of how, taking advantage of the brief break in Trask's concentration, who now had to guard himself both from the enemies and his supposed ally, the Sith he was fighting kicked his left leg from under him, and, in a matter of seconds, he had him at his mercy. Livia gasped and shakily sidestepped, moving in his direction in an attempt to distract him from his prey. At the same time, her loosely tightened backpack strings had surrendered, and the contents spilled on the floor, causing several of the droid repair parts in it to spread all over the place. Some of them were circular, so the soldier whom Livia was fighting tripped over them and impaled himself in her vibroblade.

'Ewwww!' Startled by the impact and the blood, Livia sidestepped again, unintentionally treading on the toes of the Sith who was looming over Trask. He promptly cringed in pain and tried to regain his balance, while Trask, never one to ignore an opportunity when it presented itself, used his enemy's temporary lapse in attention to severe his middle section.

'Well, that was... something I'd rather not experience again if I live through this. I'd ask how in the nine hells did you manage to pass the final exams for the training class that you mentioned, but we're kind of in a hurry, so I'll refrain.' He quickly rose to his feet and wiped the blood off his sabre using the nearest Sith trousers as an impromptu handkerchief.

'I cheated.' Her whisper was barely audible in the noise from the broken machinery around them, but as she closed the distance between them to apply another kolto spray from one of her medpacs to his forearm, Trask heard it, nevertheless.

'I didn't know you could actually cheat at those exams.'

'You cannot. Not technically, anyway.' She paused and decided that now that her chances for a romantic dinner were practically nonexistent, she might as well reveal the entire truth. 'A couple of days before the examination, I hacked into my instructor's files and found out which three people I was supposed to be tested against. I used the records he had about them, the computerised security cameras and... er, good old fashioned stalking procedures to memorise and practise defence techniques against those particular fighting styles. So when the exam started, I was able to come up with a decent enough performance, which made The Powers That Be allow me to graduate that infuriating class. It helped that I had excellent grades for all the other subjects.'

When she heard how his laughter was apparently beating back his outrage with a stick, Livia paused her rummaging for useful things through the Sith backpack she had found near a burning console to smile impishly at him. 'When I decided to practise to become a scout, the advertising said nothing about combat in close quarters; instead, the slogan was something along the lines of "An explorer most at home on the fringes of space", so it sounded ideal for a bookworm like me. It actually was perfect for a long time; there are very few things that can outlive a pair of blasters pointing at their face. But then the Republic heard about my unofficial exploits and came with the brilliant idea to hire me for a mission on Omwat, which initially seemed very exciting. By the time I found out about the importance that the Republic placed on proficiency in combat in close quarters, it was already too late to wave the discreet flag of "No blood and gore for me, please!", do you not think?'

'Heh, I see what you mean. I - What was that?' Trask carefully took a few steps towards the door on his right side, holding his weapon in a defensive position. A gloved hand opened it just as he reached it, and Livia's eyes widened when she noticed the lightsaber in the tall man's hand.

'Damn - another Dark Jedi! I'll try to hold him off, you get to the escape pods! Go!'

'Trask, no!' Horrified, Livia ran towards her companion, but it was too late. The last she saw of him was his resigned look as the door closed in front of her, leaving him trapped with the Dark Jedi. In vain did her shaky fingers scratch at the defying door; futile was the abuse she inflicted on her vibroblade when she tried to insert it between the door and the wall; equally frustrating were her attempts to hack the door's security via the broken nearby computer. Her shoulders sank in defeat, as she let herself fall on the floor, her bloodied fingers trying and subsequently failing to wipe away all of her tears.

*******

They couldn't return all the way he came. It was full of Sith and Dark Jedi, all looking for Bastila. They retraced their steps back to her bunk, and Carth used the ship's computer cameras in Bastila's room to spy on them.

'They overcame the bridge crew and the one in the room next to it; even if we somehow manage to assault them successfully, the groups who are boarding the ship as we speak will replace them sooner than I'd like. Thankfully, they haven't reached to the escape pods yet, but I suspect we don't have much time left. The corridors leading to the bridge are also full of Sith, and the same goes for the corridor leading to the escape pods. Had I been with anyone else instead of you, I'd have risked carving my way through them until the escape pods. But if they see you -' His right hand reached up and pushed away the brown strands of hair from his face, and only his discipline stopped it from shaking slightly as it did so. His brain was working furiously in an attempt to think of some possible solutions. He knew very well what would happen if even one Sith managed to alert the others that Bastila was still on the ship: they'd all come to get her. And then Malak would get her and try to use her Battle Meditation against the Republic and -

'Isn't there some alternate route to the escape pods?'

'I don't know. That's what I'm trying to find out', he answered, silently welcoming the interruption that her calm voice had created in his thoughts. Several minutes passed in silence between them, as Carth's fingers moved on the terminal and dozens of ship blue prints passed before his eyes. 'There!' he exclaimed, pointing with one of his blasters. 'That's a tunnel that leads to the escape pods. And the entrance is just one room across this one.'

Bastila peered over his shoulder, and her eyes narrowed almost immediately when they saw what he was looking at. 'You can't be serious!' she sputtered indignantly. 'That's the dumped droid parts corridor! I'm not going through that! It's full of oil and droid remains and who knows what else. There has to be another way.'

'Well, if you think you can find it, please, be my guest.' With a sarcastic bow, he stepped away from the terminal and made an inviting gesture with his blaster at her. As she snorted, pushed him away from the terminal and started to use its various commands with no apparent success, Carth's facial expressions alternated between amusement and irritation for a couple of moments, until irritation, doing a rude series of victory gestures in front of its former enemy, won. He breathed, inwardly begged for patience and tried to be reasonable. 'Listen, Bastila, we don't have time for this. If there is another way towards the escape pods - other than a not so much heroic but rather suicidal dash through the various ranks of Sith troopers - it's too well hidden, and we really lack the necessary time to search for it. At any minute now, the Sith could discover us in this room.' Carth hated to feed her self importance feelings seeing as in his opinion they were quite chubby already, but this had to be stressed again, considering the circumstances: 'You and your Battle Meditation are crucial for the Republic war effort, but this ceases to be true if you die or are captured by the Sith. Put these two premises together, and you'll see that the only sensible conclusion is to come with me to that tunnel and then to the escape pods. We can regroup on the planet below.' He was pretty sure he got her to mentally repeat the Jedi code again, but Bastila only did that when she knew it was worth it. The corners of his mouth raised in a relieved smile.

'Very well, Carth. Lead the way.'

Bastila's double bladed lightsaber and his blasters made a joke out of the fight with the three Sith who were waiting for them in the room with the tunnel entrance. Carth opened the access panel to it. Thanks to the fact that all kinds of droid parts were disposed off via the tunnel entrance, it was sufficiently large for both of them to go through. Because he did not discard the possibility that she'd change her mind, he made Bastila go first through it, and, after he had sputtered a few invectives directed at his inconveniently hurt leg, he followed her. She landed in a dirty heap of messed Jedi robes right in front of one of the two escape pods left. While she was busy with the - futile, in his opinion - attempt to arrange and clean her robes, he powered the terminal in the room.

'What are you doing? We should go.'

'There's someone left alive. One of our crew members, moving closer now. Get in the escape pod. I'll hang around to see if the survivor makes it here. Perhaps I can help.'

She gripped her lightsaber hilt in what was probably a comforting gesture for her. 'Are you mad? There's an entire squad of Sith Troopers just beyond that door! There's no way the crew member can get through them all alone.'

'I will help, if I can. There are some things that could be done to reduce their numbers, if one knows their way around computers and droids. Now go!'

'Who is it, anyway? I'll stay and help.' Bastila started to make her way towards his terminal.

'Oh, no, you don't! I'm just a soldier for the Republic. You're the one the entire Sith boarding party is after. You will get into that escape pod right now! Don't worry about me, I'll take the other one as soon as I can.'

Ignoring the huffing and ranting, Carth more or less pushed the reluctant Bastila towards one of the small emergency crafts, where he safely strapped her in. After he watched her escape pod fly away in the direction of the planet below for a few seconds, he approached the computer terminal again and tried to patch a link between himself and the survivor's personal communicator.

*******

'This is Carth Onasi on your personal communicator. I'm tracking your position through the Endar Spire's life support systems.' Livia's eyes snapped open at the soothing, but concerned voice that was coming out of her communicator. 'Bastila's escape pod is away - you're the last surviving crew member of the Endar Spire! I can't wait for you much longer; you have to get to the escape pods!'

So everyone except herself and the man whom Trask had called 'one of the Republic's best pilots' was dead. Livia looked at the closed door in front of her and felt how anger replaced her pain. She welcomed it. 'I do not know who you are. I do not know where we shall meet again. What I do know is that one day it will happen, and you will regret ever setting foot on this ship.' Tempted as she was to hang around and deliver on her whispered promise or, more likely, die trying, she knew that giving in to the taste of vengeance inside her would most likely mean that another man might die because of her. So she got up, tightened her backpack strings, sheathed her vibroblade in favour of her blasters, and headed left to the starboard door.

When she reached the next corridor, two sword wielding Sith acted as the welcoming committee. They did not have time to draw out their swords as her blasters made short work of next couple of Sith she came across had better luck, though. As she was trying to evade the attack of the one who was using a sword, the blaster wielding trooper aimed, and the concentrated beam of high-energy particles glided over her left shoulder, much too close for comfort. '_Well, that will leave a mark_', she thought when, despite her brain's commands, her now limp arm dropped the blaster it was carrying. Wishing she could have the luxury to squirm under the excruciating pain, she fell on her knees, right next to a Republic Soldier dead body; her enemy moved forward to deliver the final blow. Livia rolled under the table and used her sword to stab him in his right knee. When he fell down next to her, her blaster shot him in the heart.

She heard the other soldier moving around and assumed he was trying to determine her position under the table. With the speed that few things other than sheer terror can inflict in someone, Livia grabbed a poison grenade from the nearby Republic soldier's body and threw it at her enemy's feet, immediately covering her mouth and nose with her right hand. Like a not so gracious tree, the Sith soldier soon fell in front of her, his body in convulsions and his nose desperately trying not to breathe the toxic air around him. Livia stopped breathing and used her healthy hand to kill her remaining enemy with her vibroblade. As soon as his body stopped moving, she jerked to her feet and accessed the nearby computer's commands to vent clean air into the room. It was only after the first wave of fresh air had entered her strained lungs that she allowed herself to sigh in relief and check her surroundings properly. A non functional combat droid in the corner of the room attracted her attention. Hesitating slightly, she started to make her way towards it, hoping there'd be some way to reactivate it and use its skills to aid her. Her communicator beeped, and Carth's voice came through:

'Be careful! There's a whole squad of Sith Troopers on the other side of that door! You need to find some way to thin their numbers.'

'Jolly good', muttered Livia and inaugurated her dive into irreverence with a few Mandalorian words, which all involved creative but perhaps anatomically impossible uses between various Sith body parts and Selkath flippers. She continued to approach the disabled droid, while she listened to Carth's sensible suggestions on her communicator. It turned out that he had the same idea as her own, advising her to either activate the droid and use it as a meatshield - minus the 'meat' part, perhaps - against the Sith, or to slice the computer terminal and turn the Endar Spire's security systems against her enemies. She decided to do both, just to be on the safe side.

She reached the droid and opened her backpack, carefully selecting a few choice repair parts. She then opened the panel in the back of the droid and entered the droid's diagnosis mode in order to determine its status. She was pleased to discover that all it needed was a small shield replacement and an activation of its patrol mode, so Livia hastily replaced the shield in question and took a step backwards, realising that it would not be wise to send the droid alone against an entire squad of Sith without first making sure that as many odds as possible were in its favour. She approached the computer terminal instead. Her expert fingers soon found their way against its protections and accessed the main system commands. She used the inbuilt security camera to assess the situation in the other room. This caused another wave of profanity to leave her mouth, as she counted the enemy numbers and came with the disheartening result of twelve.

She did not stop swearing as her right hand danced on the computer's keys, in an intricate pattern that would soon lead to a malfunction in the power conduit next to the Sith contingent. By the time her efforts were rewarded with a satisfying explosion, which she watched in disgust via the security cameras, she had exhausted the Mandalorian swear words and had started on Rodian. To her dismay, the explosion still left some Sith standing, who were now rapidly approaching the door that separated the room she was in from theirs. So she quickly logged off from the computer and made her way towards the droid once more, activating its patrol mode and then hiding below the table. The droid's fluorescent eyes snapped open, and, tightening its grip on its flame thrower, proceeded towards the door, where it evaporated the incoming Sith in a matter of moments.

'We make a wonderful team, mate.' The droid was very rudimentary in all areas except combat, so she knew that her remark was pointless. But Livia was also a firm believer in positive reinforcement, so she said it, nonetheless. She paused a moment to inspect her left shoulder. It still hurt like hell and made her want to slither in the corner of the room to rock back and forth in the fetal position, but she only had one medpac left, and she didn't know if she'd find any more. She started to head towards the end of the room from which the Sith came, and when she noticed that one of the bodies had an expensive and powerful looking vibroblade on it, she kneeled to pick it up.

*******

Carth was doing everything in his power to keep his apprehensiveness firmly in check. Now that he had made sure that Bastila got away from the ship, all he had to do was to get into the last escape pod himself. But he had never been a man to leave a survivor behind, so he waited. And waited. Just when he was seriously starting to consider to get in the room at the end of the hallway and grab the survivor by the ears to drag her to the last escape pod, the door opened and a disheveled, small and slender woman crept in, wary eyes staring at him from behind the patrol droid that was accompanying her. With the Endar Spire dying around them, there was no time for lengthy introductions, so Carth got right to the point:

'You made it just in time! There's only one active escape pod left. Come on, we can hide out on the planet below!'

Apparently, she disagreed with his idea about the time they had left for introductions, because the first thing she did after she unsuccessfully tried to wipe some of the blood off her face was to ask him who he was. Carth sighed in exasperation, but he could understand her reluctance to follow a complete stranger, so he indulged her briefly:

'I'm a soldier with the Republic, like you. We're the last two crew members left on the Endar Spire. Bastila's escape pod's already gone, so there's no reason for us to stick around here and get shot by the Sith. Now come on - there'll be time for questions later!'

'Unlike you, I am a scout, not a soldier', she whispered as she was heading towards him. 'That said, what is _your_ excuse for looking the way you do?' She pointed at his left leg.

Carth looked down at the blood from the untreated wound that was covering it. 'It's just a minor flesh wound.' Or it would have been, if the aggravating woman in front of him hadn't got through the trouble to remind him of the pain which, until now, he had successfully ignored. And just who was she to comment, anyway? It's not like the shape she was in looked any better than his own, judging by the way in which her left arm hanged stiffly by her side. She stopped from her walk and hesitated slightly, looking at something she had taken out from her pocket. Apparently reaching a decision, she continued to stride towards him and put something in his hand. It was a medpac. 'Thanks.'

While he made quick and efficient use of the medpac's contents, the distant sounds of explosions and marching feet had moved closer. She probably heard them as well because she looked at him with alarmed eyes, and her body froze. 'It's now or never, sister', he announced, taking her arm and directing her towards the pod's door. As the craft's doors closed in preparation for the flight off from the Endar Spire, the last things he heard were the multiple hums of ignited lightsabers behind him.


	2. Chapter 2, Part 1

**Disclaimer & A/N**: No ownership, profit and / or disrespect intended from my part. The plot and characters from _Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic _were created by and belong to BioWare and LucasArts, so everything that sounds familiar is theirs. What doesn't, including the occasional typo, is entirely mine. If you spot any mistake, please point it out to me so that I can correct it. I love any kind of feedback. :)

**Chapter 2, Part 1 - Luck, Be a Lady**

'No, you're doing it wrong!' In all the noise that their anything but smooth descent had caused, there was no way for her to hear him. She continued to tie herself with the straps of the padded g-couch. Carth wished he could get up and fasten them correctly himself, but this was not an option until they landed. When they designed the safety straps to unlock only when the escape pod stopped moving, the people who had constructed it had made sure of that. He sighed and hoped she'd be all right.

He didn't have to wait long to find out. Walls shaking and screeching in protest, the escape pod hit the ground with a loud bang. Everything went still. Except for the other passenger of the craft, whose badly tightened safety straps had chosen that exact moment to go on a strike. With a squeal that made his stomach flinch, she fell on the metal floor. The inertia kept her body moving until her head met the supplies footlocker with a resounding thud.

Carth hastily unstrapped himself, kneeled next to her and gingerly examined her head. The ugly stream of blood that was rapidly colouring the floor and their clothes needled at him and begged for preferably rapid assistance. He knew he had to take her out of the escape pod. But only if he managed to stop the blood loss. The alternative, which included carrying an unconscious, bleeding woman on the streets of an unknown planet, did not count. Well, not unless he particularly enjoyed the possibility to be arrested as a serial killer or something equally pleasant.

He unlocked the supplies container. Finding the expected medpac in it took a load off his mind. He opened it and used the bandages inside to clean the blood on her face. He sprayed her temple with kolto, checked that his weapons were at his belt and balanced both her backpack and his own on his right and left shoulder. He lifted her in his arms and entered the necessary codes to open the craft's door.

A world of darkness said hello. Carth wanted to wave back and tell it how much he welcomed the shades that would hide his steps as he searched for a refuge. Any kind of refuge. Just to have some time to think things over. The clatter of armoured feet and the dissonant beeps that were hurrying in his direction urged him to quicken his steps. He did not feel particularly inclined to jump around in excitement at the idea to exchange blaster greetings with the Sith soldiers and salvage droids whom he could see in the distance. He turned around the first corner that he could see.

And walked. And walked some more. He hated all the endless halls and corridors. People were supposed to have a place to live, so where the hell where their apartments? When the answer came to him in the form of what was a rather corroded, but hopefully still functional complex of apartments, he wondered if Lady Luck, ashamed of her previous behaviour, was trying to make amends. It was about time, too. Relief didn't even begin to describe how he felt when he entered the complex and came across the janitor. A pair of suspicious eyes and a scowl rewarded his attempt at a reassuring smile. Damn it, he'll have to talk his way out of this.

'Good evening. Uh - '

'Down the hall and to the right', the janitor thankfully interrupted, gesturing with his hand.

'Thanks. My... uh, partner here had a small accident. She, uh, she had too much Corellian brandy at dinner, and... and now -'

'You and your lady friend are free to do whatever gives you pleasure, but I have work to do, so spare me the details. And try to keep everything quiet while you're in there. Or as quiet as you can in this situation. They don't pay me enough for this kind of cr -' He turned to leave, and his words trailed off.

Did he just imply that he - ? Carth felt his cheeks burning and fought to overcome the tendency to dislike the planet and its inhabitants. He didn't have time for this, so he had to continue his search for the indicated apartment. At least it wasn't locked. He really didn't want to contemplate the cute acrobatics that he'd have had to do in such a case. He opened the door and noticed the two beds in the far end of the room. '_Still making amends, eh? Well, please continue by keeping her alive until I find a doctor who can take her out of your charming hands. Then, you could help me find Bastila and escape this horrible place. Wouldn't be that bad of a start after what has happened on the Endar Spire._' His hands kept moving along with his inner voice, making sure that his unconscious patient was comfortable in the bed. Well, as comfortable as anyone in such circumstances could be.

Just who was she, anyway? Their not so gracious escape from the Endar Spire hadn't allowed him much room to make investigations. He glanced at her backpack. Tempting. But no, he wouldn't. Not until he made sure that he had dealt with his other priorities. Time to get on with them, then. He straightened his shoulders and looked around. Rather spartan accommodations, but he had seen so much worse. Fortunately, they included a bathroom and a workbench. It seemed that whoever owned the building was used to guests who had needs in the fiddling with weapons department.

As he went to the bathroom and studied his appearance in the mirror, he decided that those bloodstains on his jacket will simply not do for scouting around the planet. He took his spare jacket out of his backpack and put it on over his still clean shirt. Its colour didn't exactly scream 'Pay me no attention, I'm one with the shadows'. Then again, whoever was looking for a stranded Republic soldier like him surely didn't expect him to prance around in bright orange.

He shrugged and studied the door to see if there was a way to enhance the locking device. He had never been very proud of his skills in that particular domain, but they still helped him to rig the lock in such a way that it would only respond to a code he'd have to input. Sparing one last glance over the shoulder and noting his silent companion's restless sleep, he exited the apartment.

'That was quick', the janitor greeted him with a smirk.

So he wanted to know those 'details' after all. Fine, he could play that game. 'The lady was... uh, tired.' Oh, how he loathed the suggestive smile he had to force on his face. 'She sent me to... to get her a drink. Do you know of any cantinas nearby?'

'Just head back to the elevator you used to get here. When you get to the Upper City streets, head south a ways. You can't miss it. It's a good place to get a drink and find out what's going on in the Upper City. Weird that you don't know. I thought that was where you met your, hehe, lady friend.'

It had been a mistake to start this conversation. It would get him nowhere closer to relevant information. Unless he counted as 'relevant information' the kind of gossip that the janitor craved so much. 'We... we didn't exactly have time to... to notice our surroundings. Thanks. I'll just head that way, then.'

'You do that. But remember, no noise when you come back', winked the janitor.

Carth winced. Will this conversation never end? He said a hasty 'goodbye' and turned around to enter the elevator. Right. Find doctor first, scout around second. He started to head south and only stopped when a large wall of people blocked his advance. He shouldered his way through them.

'Hurry up, you stupid droids!' The voice belonged to a Sith officer in armour, whose body language signalled that he was _this_ close to giving in to certain very primitive instincts on methods to motivate the work of your subordinates. Carth felt tempted to look around for the mandatory whip. 'I have a pile of datapads on my desk so large that it would fit into three of your kind! And all of them yell about how I'm supposed to finish the job here so I can deal with the reports that keep coming from the Undercity!'

Carth casually walked closer. So did a large group of other humans and aliens. Most of them failed in their attempt to look like anything other than looters. He tried to imitate their hopeful gazes in the escape pod's direction.

'What's so important about the Undercity, sir?'

'Not so loud, you idiot!' Carth hid behind an Ithorian who was closer to the officer and struggled to hear the reply. 'More of the Republic escape pods have crashed into the Undercity. But unless these lazy, useless salvage droids finish their scanning and data scavenging here, we can't go there to check them out and report our findings. Which means that other officers will get to do it first.'

'Understood, sir. I'll adjust their programming.'

'Do that. We -' The Sith officer froze, suddenly aware of the attention. 'Move along, citizens. This doesn't concern you. Move along willingly, unless you want us to help you along.' A suggestive gesture with his blaster accompanied his helpful words of encouragement.

Carth hastily obeyed. He took a couple of steps and then, to his right, there was the cantina. To his left, the familiar symbol that identified a medical facility on most of the planets in the Outer Rim flashed at regular time intervals. He hesitated slightly. He already had a lead on Bastila's fate. The woman he had left back at the apartment needed immediate help. He turned left and entered the building.

'I'm sorry for the late hour -'

A pair of warm, brown eyes regarded him with interest. 'I see from your appearance that you're an off-worlder. Still, you are welcome here. I'll not have it said that Zelka Forn refused to help somebody just because they weren't a citizen of Taris. Do you require healing or medical supplies? I can treat almost any injury or ailment right here at the medical facility, except the rakghoul disease.'

Carth made a mental note to ask about the rakghoul disease when he had a little bit of time. Right now, this was very much not the case. 'My name is Carth. I have this friend who...' He wondered how much information he should - could - share with the doctor. Trust was not an issue, of course; blizzards would turn Tatooine's yellow dunes into sparkling white before he'd give his trust to anyone willingly again. Still, the doctor seemed like a decent enough person, and he was very much in need of his aid. 'My companion hurt her head in a... in an unfortunate collision with a footlocker. I cannot bring her here, but I thought that, if your time permitted it...'

The doctor moved away from his desk. 'Of course', he said sympathetically. 'I was just about to close the place for an hour anyway. I can have my dinner on my way to your apartment. Let me just get my things.'

'Thank you. That is very generous of you.' Zelka was a doctor, so perhaps he knew something about the escape pods from the Endar Spire. Surely Carth and his companion hadn't been the only ones in need of his services for the last several hours. 'Do you know anything about the Republic escape pods that crashed in the Undercity?'

'Uh... no... why would you ask me that? Those pods crashed in the Undercity. I'm not involved in any way!'

His curiosity at the reasons for the visible tremble in the doctor's hands got the best of him. As always, his mouth started to speak before his brain had a chance to temper it with the Staff of Common Sense. 'You seem awfully defensive about this.'

Zelka stopped gathering his supplies in a medpac, and his eyes darted to the door behind him. 'I'm not defensive! I just don't like being accused of knowing something about those Republic pods! This is as bad as any interrogation by the Sith!'

'But I'm not with the Sith. I won't betray your secret if you tell me.'

The doctor studied him for a couple of minutes until he seemed to reach a decision. 'I guess... I guess I can tell you my secret. Or rather, I can show you.' He opened the door at the back and stepped aside, motioning with his hand at the room's occupants. 'Since the battle overhead, people have been secretly bringing in these Republic soldiers who crash landed on the planet. I had to take them in. What choice did I have?'

Carth moved towards the room and noticed a couple of kolto tanks, each one with a person in it. He recognised some of them. 'None that I could imagine.'

Zelka shook his head slowly. 'Their injuries are terrible, most won't survive. But at least I can make their last days more comfortable. And at least here they are hidden away from the Sith.'

'Well, for that you have my thanks. It's good to know that at least some of these men ended up in compassionate hands. Is there anything I can do to help?'

'I'm afraid there is nothing more anyone can do for these soldiers.' Zelka closed the back room's door and grasped his medpac and a sandwich. 'We should go.'

Together, they headed towards the apartment. The walk back seemed so much shorter than the time it took him to find the apartment after the crash landing. Not carrying an unconscious woman in his arms might have very well been the explanation for the discrepancy. Carth inserted the required codes and opened the door, inviting the doctor to go in first.

'I used kolto to stop the bleeding', he said as the doctor approached the bed she was in.

Zelka opened her eyes and studied their colour. He then took out a medisensor and scanned her body with it. The device beeped loudly when the doctor pointed it at her head. Synthskin came out of the medpac, and he used it on her temple and left shoulder. He then injected her arm with something. By this time, Carth was pacing around the room, his hands at his back.

'She has a pretty bad head injury, but you did good when you used the kolto just in time. Not only it coagulated the blood, but it also stopped it from draining. I gave her a stimulant to keep the neural functions alert while her body heals itself. Now she just needs some time to rest. If she doesn't wake up in the next two days, come see me again.' He gathered his supplies. 'In fact, even if she wakes up, come see me anyway. I'd like to make sure that there are no after effects.'

Carth took out a couple of credits from his pockets. 'Thank you', he said, walking the other man to the door.

'There's no need to thank me.' Zelka graciously accepted the credits. 'Oh, I almost forgot.' He rummaged through his medpac and a couple of pills came out. 'When she wakes up, dissolve these into a glass of water and make her drink it if she's in pain.' He put the pills on the nearby desk and exited the apartment.

Carth needed a plan. And some decent sleep, but that was out of the question at the moment. Her backpack attracted his attention again. He should check at least her service records. He then should investigate the cantina, pay attention to the rumours, ask inoffensive questions that would preferably result in some necessary answers about what had happened to Bastila, return to the apartment, check on his companion's status, get some sleep, and then repeat everything next day, aiming for even better results. Oh, yeah, and maybe a way to save the galaxy from Malak was just around the corner. These will be two long days...

*******

The dream. How she hated it. If she had to dream at all, it should have been about a tall, smart and handsome man who'd sweep her off her feet. But no. Instead, trust Livia to dream of that annoyingly beautiful woman who was on the - by now way too familiar - creepy bridge once more: black hair strands graciously falling on her lovely face, posture radiating poignant serenity and bravery, gold lightsaber held with a confidence that Livia wished she could somehow copy. In a gruesome but very brief war, envy and jealousy battled over who should cover a small part of what she was feeling. Neither won, so a reluctant armistice declared that there was enough space for the both of them to sing about the unfairness of it all. She could not see herself, of course, but, judging by the dream's general content, she was positive that her part of it consisted in being a small blob of energy who just bounced around in silent admiration. How utterly demeaning.

And now the black robed figure. As always, he died a swift and merciful death. The fair woman pulled out her lightsaber from his limp body. She moved a couple of steps closer to the fully armoured figure in front of her. This time, Livia would not fall into the familiar loop again, once more denied the escape from the horrible nightmare. She refused to watch that unfairly dazzling beauty again. Or the death of that black robed figure, for that matter. She hated them all, anyway. They had no business being in her dreams. That it was a repetitive dream only made the situation more loathsome. She just had to focus. '_Tall, smart and handsome... tall, smart and handsome..._'

'_A rather promising start_', she mentally conceded when her eyes opened and found a familiar face regarding her worriedly. She moved to leave the bed and promptly halted when flaming swords darted through her head in the form of a not so welcome migraine. Livia cursed. It was all that idiotic dream's fault. Her right hand engaged in a misguided attempt at a comforting massage on her throbbing temple. It failed miserably and only served to make the pain even more eager to show her who was the boss. She shivered.

Long and slender fingers touched her own, gently pushing a glass in her hands. 'Here, drink this.'

She drank it all. 'Relief' was a horrible understatement to describe how she felt when the invading agony reluctantly gathered her things and skulked away to its dark little corner. Good riddance. She rose out of the bed and looked around. Unfamiliar surroundings stared back. She would have remembered drinking too much and sleeping through most of the day with an attractive man. If for no other reason, then because it would have been a pretty damn good excuse to gloat like a maniac in a letter home. It would have forever silenced those pesky childhood friends who kept asking her when she'd get into a serious relationship at last.

'Good to see you up, instead of trashing around in your sleep. You must have been having one hell of a nightmare. I was wondering if you were ever going to wake up. How's your head?'

Well, that settled it, then. No nights of mad passion for Livia. Instead, as always, she had got herself into some sort of trouble. She could not imagine that soothing, pleasant voice abusing her head enough to cause that abominable migraine. So she tried to squeeze out of her too tired brain some other kind of explanation for the events. The man's voice and appearance were certainly not terra incognita for her, but she could not exactly locate them in time or space. One single clue grudgingly answered to her call. '_Shielded_', it said. She felt safe in that man's presence. She also felt embarrassed when she noticed that he was still looking at her anxiously, as if he was expecting her to fall unconscious again. She forced her mouth to open and blurted the first thing that came through her mind. 'I had a strange dream. Like a vision or something.'

'I'm not surprised. You took a serious blow to your head. You're probably having all kinds of strange dreams. I wouldn't worry too much about it.' He smiled reassuringly. 'I'm Carth, one of the Republic soldiers from the Endar Spire. I was with you on the escape pod, do you remember?'

Now she did. Carth Onasi. The one who had helped her fend off the Sith on the Endar Spire. The one who had patiently remained behind on a dying ship to wait for her. Also a Republic star-pilot, if she recalled correctly what Trask had told her. Trask... She hugged herself. She did not want to remember everything just now. 'I do. I am Livia Regana, by the way. How did we get here?'

He sat down on the bed that was next to hers and inhaled. 'Well, you've been slipping in and out of consciousness for a couple of days now, so I imagine you're pretty confused about things. Try not to worry. We're safe... at least for the moment. We're in an abandoned apartment on the planet of Taris. You were banged up pretty bad when our escape pod crashed, but luckily I wasn't seriously hurt. I was able to drag you away from our crash site in all the confusion, and I stumbled onto this abandoned apartment. By the time the Sith arrived on the scene, we were long gone.'

Other than Carth and Trask, she failed to recall anyone else doing anything even remotely close in magnitude for her. She would not forget it. 'I owe you my life. Thank you.'

He fidgeted. 'You don't have to thank me. I've never abandoned anyone on a mission, and I'm not about to start now. Besides, I'm going to need your help.'

'_Anything, as long as it does not involve vibroblades'_, she begged him silently while she nodded and waited for him to continue.

'Taris is under Sith control. Their fleet is orbiting the planet, they've declared martial law, and they've imposed a planet-wide quarantine. No ships can land or take off. But I've been in worse spots.' He paused to glance at her backpack that was on the desk and then took a long breath, watching her. 'I saw on your service records that you understand a remarkable number of alien languages. That's pretty rare in a raw recruit, but it should come in handy while we're stranded on a foreign world. There's no way the Republic will be able to get anyone through the Sith blockade to help us. If we're going to find Bastila and get off this planet, we can't rely on anybody but ourselves.'

Right. Help save Bastila. This was quickly evolving into her main purpose in life. Or so other people wanted it to become. 'Bastila, as in Bastila of the Endar Spire?' She did not add 'Commander Officer whose invisible presence has made my life a living hell of twirling vibroblades ever since I set foot on the Endar Spire'. But she wanted to. Oh, so badly.

'That smack to your head did more damage than I thought. Bastila's a Jedi. She was with the strike team that killed Darth Revan, Malak's Sith master.'

When he got to the part about how Bastila and her Battle Meditation were the key to the entire Republic war effort, Livia started to pace around the room. First Gavin, then Trask, and now Carth. She tuned his words out and only paid attention to his tone. His voice was splendid; what it actually said, not even close. She so wanted to shower. A nice, long, hot, shower, with - Why was he staring at her?

Carth crossed his arms. 'You haven't heard a word I said, have you?'

What did he think, that even if she was going to help him in this mad quest to rescue the Jedi in distress, she had to like it as well? She frowned back at him. 'I did not need to. I have so much information about Bastila's magnificent qualities that I could write an encyclopaedia if I wanted to. Which I do not, thank you.' She exhaled. He had saved her life; not his fault that her self esteem happened to detest over-exposure to Bastila praise. Guilt slithered around her, as comfortable as a pair of trousers that were two sizes too small would have been. 'I was merely waiting for an appropriate moment to ask you what do you think we should do next.'

His annoyed frown graciously granted its seat to a puzzled one. He then shrugged and replied, 'If Bastila's going to escape Taris, she's going to need our help. And we'll probably need hers. Nobody will be looking for a couple of common soldiers like us. And if we're careful, we can move about the planet without attracting notice; a luxury Bastila won't have. She's going to have half the Sith fleet looking for her. They know how important she is to the war effort. Hence, the quarantine that they've imposed on the planet.'

Oh, no, she will so not let him get back to the part in which he preaches about Bastila's resplendence. Just what did a girl have to do in order to get that kind of attention, anyway? She sulked. 'I thought I told you that I was not a soldier. Scout here, remember?'

'That was just a figure of speech. I'm aware that your combat skills are not at what I'd call "optimal levels", and I'll cover you when you need me to, but -'

'Hey, hey, hey! I said "scout", not "useless lump of meat who needs a brawny thug to baby-sit her".' Her blasters were still in their holsters. Good. Time for them to get some air. 'See Duke and Paul here, mister? They can inflict a world of terror, especially if someone points them at your back.' Laughter was not exactly what she had been expecting as a sign that confidence in her ability to handle herself had overwhelmed him. He really did not seem that convinced; more like hovering carefully between deep amusement and disbelief. And it was contagious. She put her weapons back in their places, shrugged and tried one last time. 'It would behove you to fear us. Grrr.'

His lips were still quirking at the corners. 'A scout who can barely reach my shoulder if she wears her hair in a bun? Whose voice could freak out an entire herd of bantha if it tried hard enough and had a full night of rest and a bad case of laryngitis? Who _names_ her blasters? Please don't hurt me.'

'Any idea where we should start looking for Bastila?' she asked after she stopped chuckling.

'While you were out, I did some scouting around. There are reports of a couple escape pods crashing down in the Undercity. We can get there from the Lower City, so that's probably a good place to start.'

'Very well. But I would like to take a shower first.'

'Sure. If you ask me really nicely, I might even allow you to have dinner.' He was looking pointedly at her stomach, which was growling furiously.

She simpered. 'Two days of starvation could do that even to cheeky masses of brain-devoid muscles such as certain soldiers in this room.' She headed towards the bathroom. The pleasant sound of his laughter accompanied her.

The problem with enjoying the shower she had just taken was the realisation that she had nothing to change herself into. Foul, grotty bloodstains had forever ruined her black trousers and shirt. It did not make her feel any better when she thought that it probably was her own blood. Hardly visible on the black material it might be, but its smell certainly refused to be as discreet. She used a towel to cover herself and exited the bathroom.

'Unless you are eager to watch me launch a new fashion trend on Taris, you should really get me something to wear.'

His eyes widened. 'Ah, it... it just so happens that I have exactly what you need.' He handed her a green set of clothes. 'It's an Echani armour. I've found it in another abandoned apartment when I scouted around. I figured it was just your size.'

'In other words, you tried it on, and it would not suit you', she grinned.

He winked at her. 'Well, if you want to be technical about it...'

Livia accepted the clothes, took her backpack from the desk and headed back to the bathroom. Carth had already seen her without her special bra. The damage was therefore already done. There was no point in further attempts to hide her damned imperfections. Besides, he seemed to be smitten with Bastila, so someone like her would have less chances to get his attention than a dancing Hutt tail would. She put her new clothes on, placed the bra at the bottom of her rucksack and started to sort through its contents. A vibration cell and the vibroblade she had liberated from the Sith on the Endar Spire peered back at her.

She remembered having read in a manual about how the addition of a vibration cell to such a weapon would make it more powerful. She needed all the help she could get, even if the little that Carth had told her of his expectations of her involved a translator's job. Translating, she could easily handle. Bladed weapons, not so much. But, unlike the Endar Spire, Taris was a large planet. It probably had lots of wide spaces, and therefore, there would be plenty of occasions in which to use blasters and grenades. In case diplomacy and computer hacking failed, of course. Regardless, when it came to lengths of metal whose pointy stick she had to successfully insert in an enemy, she had always preferred to persuade, charm, beg, threaten, blackmail, coerce and even cheat as many as possible odds into fighting by her side. Good thing she had an almost photographic memory; she vividly remembered the instructions from the manual.

She exited the bathroom and approached the workbench. She started to adjust the weapon while Carth regarded her in silence. It clawed at her. Silence could much too easily lead to pesky introspective moments in which he could arrive to the conclusion that he did not need her help after all. Silence pushed her, as well, into a certain introspective moment. Her cowardice on the Endar Spire did not qualify as a fond memory to contemplate. 'I would like to know a little more about you, Carth.'

He glanced at her, surprise evident in his posture. 'Me? I understand why you want to know; I... I kinda get the feeling we'll be spending a lot of time together over the next while. Well, I've been a star-pilot for the Republic for years. I've seen more than my share of wars... I fought in the Mandalorian Wars before all this started. But with all that, I've never experienced anything like the slaughter these Sith animals can unleash. Not even the Mandalorians were that senseless.' He breathed to steady his angry tone. 'My home world was one of the first planets to fall to Malak's fleet. The Sith bombed it into submission, and there wasn't a damn thing our Republic forces could do to stop them!' The anger had come back.

Sorrow washed over Livia, and her hands stopped fiddling with the vibroblade. 'This must be very painful for you. I am sorry -'

He did not seem to hear her. 'I'm just a soldier; I go where the fleet Admirals tell me to. I follow my orders and I do my duty. It just...' He paused and sighed. 'It just doesn't seem right that doing that means I failed them! I didn't!'

What had she got herself into? All she had wanted was to distract both of them from gloomy thoughts and to get to know him better. Instead, the Queen of Small Talk strikes again: she quests for the daftest thing to say and thus opens a can of worms. Excellent, Livia. 'Forgive me, Carth. I did not mean to upset you.' Apologies felt so... clumsy to express the sadness that had embraced her upon hearing him talk about his past.

'I know', he whispered, looking into her eyes. 'Don't worry about it. I just... must not be making much sense. You probably mean well with your questions. I'm just not accustomed to talking about my past very much. At all, actually.' He felt around his belt for his blasters. 'I'm more used to taking action. So if you're ready, let's just do that. If you have more questions, ask them later.'

She filed away his words for the future and inspected the modified vibroblade. 'All right. Come on, I want to scout this planet out a bit.'

'Good idea. We can use this apartment as our base, and we can probably get some equipment and supplies here in the Upper City. Just remember to keep a low profile.'

'Why?'

'I've heard some grim stories about the Dark Jedi interrogation techniques. They say the Force can do terrible things to a mind. It can wipe away your memories and destroy your very identity.' His shoulders straightened. 'But I figure if we don't do anything stupid, we should be okay. I mean, after all, they're... they're looking for Bastila, not a couple of grunts like us.'

'Whom are you calling a "grunt"?' Her smile died on her lips when she opened the door to the apartment and came across the small Sith patrol that was threatening two Duros.

'Okay, you alien scum, everybody get up against the wall! This is a raid!'

One of the Duros raised his head and crossed his arms. '_There was a patrol here just yesterday, and they found nothing! Why do you Sith keep bothering us?_'

The Sith officer shot him at point black range. His black boots stepped on the body. 'That's how we Sith deal with smart-mouth aliens! Now get up against the wall before I lose my temper again!' As the remaining Duros obeyed, he turned and finally noticed Livia and Carth. 'Hey, what's this, humans hiding out with aliens? They must be Republic fugitives! Atta -!'

Carth's blasters made sure he wouldn't finish the order. Ever. Livia instinctively followed suit. Duke and Paul turned one of the other two droids into a pile of smouldering bits. The Duros took advantage of the remaining droid's attention to Livia and Carth and decapitated it from behind before it had a chance to aim its weapon. He shook his head at his fallen companion.

'_Poor Ixgil! He should never have talked back to that Sith. Thankfully, you were here to step in and help us, humans._'

'Ask him what the Sith patrol was doing here', said Carth after Livia had finished translating for him.

'_They were searching for uniforms_', replied the Duros, who couldn't speak Basic, but who could understand it just fine. '_The Sith had a lead on how we supply the Hidden Beks, one of the two main Lower City gangs, with Sith uniforms, which they use to disguise themselves and ambush the Sith who come to the Lower City._'

She translated again and added, 'I think it could be handy to get our hands on some of those uniforms ourselves, should we come across them.'

'I agree.' He gestured with his blaster at the bodies and raised his eyebrows at the Duros. 'Do you need help to dispose of them?'

'_I will move them so it looks like they were killed elsewhere. That should throw the Sith off the track. With any luck, they won't be bothering us for a while._' That said, he bent over, lifted the officer's body and disappeared around the corner.

'The doctor who treated your injury, Zelka, told me we should pay him a visit when you wake up. Just to make sure that your head is fine.'

'We should also get some medical supplies from him. Lead the way.'

*******

Zelka cupped Livia's chin and used a medisensor near her temple. Satisfaction crept around Carth when the expected cacophony of furious beeps from two days ago refused to make its appearance.

'Am I ready to face new and hopefully less hurtful challenges?' she asked with an impish grin.

'Everything seems to be in order now, young lady. Just make sure you stay away from footlockers in the future.' He stepped back behind his desk. 'Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to get back to work. I think I've discovered a promising lead on the rakghoul serum's composition. Though, with my luck so far, it's probably nothing, and even more people will die from this terrible disease.'

Carth remembered the doctor mentioning the plague the first time he met him. 'Know your enemy' had always been one of the principles that guided him. Since he and Livia were going to spend more time than he'd have liked on Taris, he wanted to get as much information as possible about all its threats. 'What is this rakghoul disease?'

'It is spread by the rakghouls, horrible monsters that live in the Undercity below Taris' great skyscrapers. Prolonged exposure to the Undercity breeds the disease, and those infected will eventually mutate into rakghouls themselves, becoming mindless beasts that feed on the flesh of others.'

When the doctor finished painting that vivid portrait of the plague's hideous effects, Livia shuddered. 'Is there no cure?'

'There is no antidote for the disease, though I heard the Republic scientists at the military base here on Taris were close to perfecting a cure.' He hesitated, and frustration coloured his voice when he resumed his tale. 'Then the Sith arrived. They overran the military base, and now they refuse to allow anyone access to the laboratories inside. If I could just get my hands on a sample of that serum, the rakghoul disease could be wiped out from the face of Taris forever.'

Carth opened his mouth to dispel the doctor's sadness, but Livia beat him to it. 'Maybe we could find a way to get our hands on that serum for you.'

'The military base is crawling with Sith guards. Breaking in there would be a suicide mission.' Zelka paused and scratched his chin. 'I suppose the Sith patrols in the Undercity might have a sample of the serum on them, if they hadn't already used it because of a rakghoul infection. But I doubt the patrol would just hand the serum over. And nobody's stupid enough to attack one of the Sith patrols, even in the Undercity.'

'We're going to the Undercity anyway, and I don't imagine that the Sith will be terribly happy to see us.' He stopped to glance at Livia, who nodded slowly. 'Don't worry, Zelka - we'll get that serum for you.'

'Please don't say that! If the Sith hear you, they might think I'm suggesting you start attacking their patrols. They could shut me down! I only mentioned the serum because you asked. I don't actually expect anyone to get me the serum. Now, is there anything else I can do for you?'

Not inclined to agitate the doctor further, Carth turned to Livia. 'Have you got those medpacs?'

While she prepared the necessary credits for the exchange, he headed towards the exit and glanced around.

A hushed voice and a ruthless invasion of his private space presented themselves for inspection. 'Psst! You there! Wait a minute. I need to talk to you about the rakghoul serum. I've got an offer for you that you might want to hear.'

Carth pulled his arm out of Zelka's assistant grasp. 'I don't have time for this.'

'Oh, don't be an idiot. Just listen to me for one minute, and you won't be sorry. Davik Kang wants the cure, and you'd be smart to give it to him. He'll pay you ten times what Zelka can if you can get the cure.'

Livia, who had finished shopping for supplies, approached them. 'Who is Davik Kang?'

'Davik's the big boss around here. Gambling, smuggling, extortion - he's got a piece of all the action on Taris.'

She studied the small man from under her eyelashes and arched an eyebrow. 'Why does Davik want the cure so badly?'

'Davik's interested in anything that can turn a profit. He could make a fortune selling the serum to anyone infected with the disease - not like Zelka, who'll practically give it away.'

Carth intentionally kept silent, waiting to see if his companion's feelings for credits would turn out to be a problem in the future. An annoyed Livia, who looked as if a hive of stinky and grotesque insects had just made her an offer to engage in a poetic mating ritual, did not disappoint him. 'I think we would rather give the serum to Zelka. He will use it to help people.'

The assistant glowered at Livia, who was tapping her foot, and then at Carth, who was staring back with self-imposed indifference. 'Helping people is all well and good, but you have to help yourself first, right? I'm telling you Davik will pay big credits for the cure. More than Zelka could ever afford. If you find the rakghoul serum, just take it to Zax, who works for Davik in the Lower City bounty office. He'll pay you what that cure is really worth.'

Tests or no tests, he was getting seriously sick of that individual. 'And then only the rich could afford the cure. Just let the poor suffer, right? Come on, Livia, let's go. I think I promised you a dinner if you asked me really nicely.'

'Mmm, dinner. Where shall my blood be spilled in thy honour, master?'

'I like the sound of that.'

'The "master" part, or the one that involves not so aesthetic - but full of devotion - blood sacrifices?'

'The first one. You should keep calling me that.'

'Depends on how good that dinner turns out to be. Fail to fill this baby with delicious food', she patted her flat and noisy stomach, 'and Sith interrogation techniques will sound like an ickle joke compared to what I am going to do to you.'

'What're you going to do, talk my ears off? Something even more daunting?'

She laughed with him. 'No, I will - Oh, is that the cantina?' She ran to it, and he followed her, still grinning. He tried to remember the last time when he enjoyed irrelevant banter so much in the past four years. Blankness was everything he received for his effort, and that bothered him. He couldn't afford to let his guard down. That - other than himself and supposedly Bastila - Livia was one of the only survivors of the Endar Spire disaster did not bode well. He'd definitely have to be more cautious in the future.

By the time he reached the table she had chosen, Livia had already ordered enough food to feed an army. 'Do not worry about the credits to pay for that', she said, pointing with her fork. 'See that conceited guy at the other table? He has just mopped the floor with an opponent at Pazaak. I am going to beat him at his own game.'

'Don't you think that the fact that he has already defeated an opponent so successfully means that you should be careful?'

'I would agree but for the fact that I have an almost photographic memory, which has often helped me to turn Pazaak into less than a gamble and more of a mathematical game of probabilities.'

'I see.' He pushed away his plate. 'Then, while you do that, I'll ask around for information and ways to increase our funds. I've seen a Hutt on my way to you. If there's anything worth knowing in this place, he'll be aware of it. For the right amount of credits, I might persuade him to share.'

She glanced at his almost full plate and tilted her head. 'Are you on a diet?'

Of all the weird questions... He pushed away the two hair strands that were always falling on his forehead. 'No, why do you ask?'

'Because, if you are not one of those guys who obsess over their figure, I shall ask the waitress to pack that up for you, and you can finish it at the apartment.'

And of all the weird answers... 'Uh, thanks.' Carth retraced his steps and approached the Hutt at the end of the room.

'I'm sorry, human,' the Hutt interrupted him before he even had a chance to speak, 'the betting window is closed. No more fights right now. People are sick of seeing the same duellists all the time. It's bad for business. Unless...' He measured Carth from head to feet. 'My name is Ajuur. I organise all the duels here. Maybe you want to step in the duel ring? It can be a highly profitable venture.'

'Actually, I would like to ask you several questions.'

'Bah! I don't have time for questions. They don't make me any credits.'

'They could.' He patted his pockets.

The Hutt laughed. 'Human, you couldn't afford my answers. Even if you could, I wouldn't cater to your questions. You humans are beyond boring. Now, unless you want to discuss the possibility to get into the duel ring, go away.'

So this was a dead end. But it didn't have to be. Perhaps something useful could still come out of this. After all, there was no harm in finding possibilities to make credits. 'What about the duels, then?'

'I can arrange for you to fight in the duel ring. If you win, you get the standard contract: 10% of all wagers. And don't worry, nobody dies in the duel ring anymore. Death matches are illegal now. Most fighters in the duel ring use vibroblades or stun sticks, but a few of the duellists use blasters. Use whichever you prefer.'

'Vibroblades and blasters? And nobody ever dies? How come I get the feeling you're trying to take me for a ride?'

'The duel ring has energy suppressor fields to make sure nobody dies. Weapons are limited so they hurt, but don't kill. And we've got medic droids in case of serious injuries. Are you interested?'

'I might be. But not tonight.'

'Good - new blood for the ring!' The Hutt rubbed his hands and then squinted at him. 'You need a nickname, like Ice, or Deadeye, or Twitch. Good nicknames make people bet more. Hmm... you're an off-worlder. You're new here, people won't recognise you... How does "The Mysterious Stranger" sound?'

It sounded awfully cheesy. But he couldn't use his real name because the Sith might have come across a crew manifest from the Endar Spire. 'I like it', he said, trying not to choke on the words.

'Then "The Mysterious Stranger" it is. Now go and don't come back until you're ready for a duel.'

He turned his back at him - or her, he had never been sure which pronoun to use when it came to Hutts - and looked around for Livia. She was at a nearby table, unreadable features peering into her cards. Her opponent was paying more attention to her face than to the actual game. Carth couldn't really blame him.

'20. That beats your 19.' Livia put her cards down and reached for the credits on the table.

Her opponent's hand covered hers. 'I do not lose at Pazaak very often, but you have made a point of beating me. I think it is obvious what that means - you cheat!'

'Niklos, just because I beat you five times in a row does not mean that I am a cheater! It simply means that your skills at this game are rubbish.' She tried to withdraw her hand, but his grip refused to get the hint. Under the table, her left hand reached for one of the weapons at her belt.

He would not let her ruin their disguise by getting involved into a blasters flavoured shouting competition. Sometimes, the right tone of voice and words could do the trick; Livia had a lot to learn. Carth casually walked to their table, took out his blasters and put his leg over one of the chairs. 'It's not her fault that you're too busy ogling her to actually pay attention to the cards. Now leave before I use your eyeballs as target practice.'

Niklos glanced at the weapons in his hands. He released Livia's hand. 'Fine. Take your damned credits, but I'll tell everyone what a cheater you are.'

Carth put his blasters away and touched her shoulder to stop her from following Niklos. 'Just how many credits did you relieve him of?'

With a pout, she contemplated her opponent's hasty retreat. 'Two hundred. How has your conversation with the Hutt gone?'

'Didn't find out anything useful because the Hutt laughed at me when I offered to pay for the information. But the time I spent talking to him wasn't completely wasted. I found a way to make a decent amount of credits should we find ourselves in dire need of them.' He told her about the duels as they headed back towards their apartment.

'Well, if you are sure that they are safe...' She rubbed her eyes and cast him a sideways glance. 'We should try to get into the Lower City tomorrow. I would suggest doing it tonight, only I am afraid that I would fall asleep by the time we get there.'

'So your idea of "scouting around the planet" that you spoke of earlier involved a substantial dinner and a couple of games of Pazaak? A fascinating approach.'

Hands on her hips, she stopped before the door to glare at him. 'It is not my fault that you did not feed me while I was unconscious. But sure, if you would like to risk me accidentally aiming my blasters at your head instead of our eventual enemies' vulnerable body parts, I shall definitely utter a heartfelt "Yes, sir!" when it comes to a trip to the Lower City tonight.'

'Relax, I was just teasing you. I'm tired, too.' He wished he could tell her about the frantic two days he had spent wondering whether she'd wake up and help him, whether he could afford asking too many questions of Taris' residents, whether Bastila was still alive, whether he had a chance to play a role in saving the galaxy... But to do all that he'd have to take her in his confidence, and he'd have rather walked naked through the Upper City with a 'Buy me as a pleasure slave' tag than trust her. 'We'll go to the Lower City tomorrow.' He opened the door for her and smirked at the deflated look on her face.

*******

'Wake up. We have a lot of work to do.' The intruder's tone was anything but gentle. A voice so warm had no right to sound so utterly deafening.

She turned on the other side. 'Be gone, foul fiend! Her Majesty needs her beauty sleep.'

'Sister, you need such a thing as desperately as I need another arm and leg.' He shook her shoulder. 'Now wake up before I introduce you to cold water as a bedfellow to help you.'

Livia pondered the order of names on her hate list. Between stupid mornings, stupid cold water during stupid mornings, and stupid Republic soldiers who insisted to introduce her to stupid mornings and stupid cold water, it was a pretty tough choice. She opened one eye to give him a dirty look. 'I hate you, Carth.'

Unfazed, he removed the sheet that was covering her body. 'Yeah, well, you wouldn't be the first. Come on, we have a busy day in front of us.'

She got up, gathered her things, glared at his smirking face and went to the bathroom. '_Maybe he is not so stupid after all_', she thought when the fog that covered her sleepy brain reluctantly hurled itself up and away at the not so meek push of the shower she had just taken. She could not blame him for waking her up with such insensitivity. Not if 'fairness' was a language she was fluent in, anyway. Stranded on a foreign planet with someone he barely knew, forced to take care of her while she was unconscious, keeping under control the urge to just get things moving and save the galaxy already... She sighed. Not his fault that she was so not a morning person.

She could hear him pacing in the other room and imagined him bursting into the bathroom to grab her by the arm and drag her to Bastila's rescue. Though, being Carth, he'd probably knock and wait for a reply first. As she hastily put her Echani armour on, she had to admit that he had been right: it did suit her. She checked her weapons, and, with a last glance at her sheathed vibroblade, beseeching it not to demand for some action, Livia exited the bathroom.

'That was fast', he greeted her with raised eyebrows.

What did he expect her to do in the bathroom? Comb her hair in a complicated Corellian Senate protocol hairstyle and add the mandatory make up? Livia snorted; by now, all the make up and hairstyles in the world could not do anything for her appearance to be more than common, at best. Perhaps 'cute', but only if she used her special bra. 'I live to serve, master.'

He grinned and opened the door for her. They had barely exited the apartment complex when a set of loud voices halted their progress. Livia silently cursed the planet and its habit to never let her go anywhere without an incident of some kind blocking her way. She scanned the surroundings to discover the source of the disturbance. Two bounty hunters, one human and one alien, were towering over an old man.

'Davik says you missed your last payment.'

'_Davik doesn't like you missing payments_', said the alien, mimicking his mate's tone.

The old man's eyes darted from one bounty hunter to the other. He took some credits out of his pockets. 'Here - I've got fifty credits! That should buy me some time, right?'

'Sorry, you're out of time. Now it's all or nothing. Davik can't have people not paying his debts!'

'But I don't have that much! How can I give you credits I don't have?'

'That's too bad. Davik's going to want to make an example of you! You're coming with us.' The human bounty hunter took out his vibroblade, and his alien shadow copied his gesture.

The old man startled, and his voice rose in desperation while he looked around. 'No - help! Somebody help! They're going to kill me!'

Carth leaned closer to her and whispered, 'I know we have to be careful about drawing attention to ourselves, but are we just going to let them drag this guy off?'

She shuddered, eyes fixed on the bounty hunters' vibroblades. Maybe if she moved fast enough, she could avoid a too good for comfort view of the weapons. 'Take the one on the left?' He nodded in understanding, readied his blasters and moved closer to the human. Livia did the same, only in the opposite direction, towards the alien.

'Hold on a second. Looks like we got ourselves a witness here!'

'_Davik doesn't like witnesses._'

Livia willed her voice to be firm. It helped that her target's body seemed to be much less agile than her own. 'So we have heard, Mr Echo. Leave this man alone, or you will have to deal with us.'

Outraged, the alien strutted towards her, vibroblade held high for an attack. He did not have the time to close in on her because Duke and Paul transformed him into charred bits of very smelly flesh and bones. Her nose wrinkled in protest. She studied her armour and, for the millionth time, she pledged her undying love for blasters. Such clean weapons they were. No bloodstains whatsoever on her clothes. Nor gory entrails. Now, if only scientists would discover a way to enhance them with a device that would automatically spray the burned flesh with a more pleasant aroma, everything would be just perfect, and killing would be so much less of a chore. To her left, Carth stirred; he had already killed his own opponent. Her body relaxed.

The old man approached them. 'Thank you - I owe you my life! Those bounty hunters were going to take me away and kill me. My wife warned me not to take a loan from Davik. Now I can't pay him back. It's no good to owe a crime lord money. He'll just keep sending more bounty hunters after me until I'm dead!'

'Maybe we can help you.' She glanced at Carth, but he was studying her from behind unreadable features.

'You already helped me by saving me from those bounty hunters. So unless you have a spare hundred credits so I can pay off Davik, there's nothing else you can do.'

Was Carth going to just stand there and refuse to acknowledge her gaze? She fidgeted and looked at him again. Still no clues about what she should do. '_Well, bugger this stupid stare match!_' She had won those credits on her own. He could protest all he wanted, but she was just going to point out how he gave her the silence treatment when she waited for some sort of sign from him. 'I do have some extra credits. Here, you can take them.' She did not dare use 'we' this time. That until now she had done it so easily, without noticing, only served to irritate her when she realised how frustrating its absence was.

'Just like that? I... I don't know what to say! Thank you! Thank you!' Tears welling in his eyes, the old man nodded at them and left in a hurry, as if afraid she would change her mind.

Carth arched an eyebrow and finally deigned to speak. 'You gave him a hundred credits? Generous.'

'The poor man obviously needed them more than w- I did. I can replace them as soon as I come across another Pazaak player. Until then, what is left of my wage for the Omwat mission will cover for their absence.'

'Stop acting like I was some kind of Hutt bent on collecting a debt from you. The only reason I haven't given him the credits myself is because they were yours. You won them at Pazaak, so it's your business what you do with them. I - Why are you looking at me like that?'

Livia closed her mouth. When she opened it again, she had to apply a thick layer of mental filters to keep her speech in friendly terms that would not make her grandmother blush and waggle her finger at her. 'You infuriating man! You let me squirm under your oh, so incomprehensible, granite-like features, worrying that I have overstepped my bounds, and that you will scold me for my lack of proper finance management. And all this just because you have got it into your presumably more intelligent than unicellular organisms head that those credits are my own? Gah!'

Carth pushed two hair strands away from his eyes and took a step away from her. 'What are you talking about?'

'Feigning ignorance, huh? Fine, have it your way.' She took out the rest of the credits from her pocket and stalked over the distance between them. She pried his fingers open and put the credits in his hand. She then closed his palm and covered it with her own. 'You,' she stabbed his chest with her finger, 'Carth Onasi. Are you with me so far? Good. I,' she poked her chest with her finger, 'Livia Regana. Still with me? Jolly good! Together', she continued, making large, sweeping motions from herself to him with her free hand, 'we big team. My credits - our credits. Work together, we should. You complete and utter berk!'

His eyes widened, and a smile valiantly fought its way to the surface. 'Not sure I'm that fond of the "berk" term, but you've made your point. I guess I'm... a little rusty when it comes to team work.' His hand gently withdrew from her grasp. 'At any rate, we should get going. Entrance to the Lower City? That way. Last time I checked, only one Sith guarded it. Maybe we can make our way past him.'

Livia doubted that it would turn out to be so easy. Based on what had happened to her so far, she had this theory about Taris, according to which the planet's latest plaything was Livia herself. It was thus reasonable to expect unwilling involvement in all kinds of problems by the time she left its benevolent surface. She trembled when she visualised everything that the word 'problems' could involve: from mild issues such as lack of regular meals and sleep to the ten orders in magnitude greater danger of combat in close quarters. She genuinely did not want to disappoint Carth, but if she were to be honest to herself, she had to admit that she would probably hinder him in his mission rather than help him. And she would soon have to tell him about it.

His voice interrupted her depressing train of thoughts. 'What's on your mind?'

'That I already hate the little that I have seen of this planet.'

'You too, huh? Between Hutts pitting people against each other for credits and crime lords determined to make everyone around them as miserable as possible, I'm not sure if there is anything at all to like.'

'Slavery? Prejudice against aliens? Sith martial law? How can anyone refuse to see the beauty in all that?'

'Beats me, as well. And don't forget -' The doubtlessly lavish praise that he was going to bestow on his Taris comments obviously forgotten, Carth abruptly halted and whispered, 'There's the guard I told you about, in front of the elevator to the Lower City. Try to look like we have serious business to attend to?'

'Thy will be done, master.' As she followed him towards the elevator, Livia's walk became as urgent and confident as Carth's.

The fully armoured Sith guard refused to buy their act. He took out his blaster and pointed it at them. 'This elevator is off limits. Only Sith patrols and those with proper authorization are allowed into the Lower City. It's obvious from the way you're dressed that you're not one of the Sith patrols, so unless you have the authorization papers you must move along!'

They rapidly complied. 'Well, that could have gone better', muttered Carth when they got at a safe distance. 'We're going to need some kind of disguise if we want to get past this guy.'

Livia glanced at the Sith that they had left behind. 'A disguise such as a pair of comfy Sith battle suits of doom? I do believe they sell them at the cantina for half a credit the piece.' While she rejoiced in the laughter that she had managed to get out of him, a niggling idea kept jabbing at her. 'Remember the Duros we met in front of our apartment? He mentioned that one of the local gangs, the Hidden Beks, has the habit to collect Sith uniforms. Perhaps we could buy a couple from them?'

'Yes, but he also said that the Beks use the uniforms to ambush Sith patrols. I doubt that the gang members will be so eager to just hand us what we need. So unless you've just discovered that you're the lost heir to the throne of an obscenely rich planet, then...'

'We still have a hundred credits from Pazaak and another hundred from my fee for my former mission. Just how many credits do you think we need?'

'Three hundred credits is not enough. Well, not unless you're willing to face the risk of being completely broke on such a wonderful planet.'

She mentally counted again. Sure, she had always sucked at everything maths-related except for probabilities, but even she could not be _that _wrong about a simple addition. She raised her eyebrows. 'Three hundred?'

He poked her arm and grinned at her. 'Tsk, tsk, such a selective memory. We big team, remember? Come on, let's get to the cantina. Winning a couple of Ajuur's duels should cover for whatever the Beks will demand from us.'

As she lagged behind him, Livia grudgingly mediated her inner battle between confusion and enjoyment. She would never understand this man. But she could at least try. The alternative, which advertised itself as a lovely 'Choose the correct answer out of these several options that may all be wrong' type of quiz, stank. 'Since you are in such a nice mood, is this a good time to ask you some more questions?'

His steps reduced their speed until she reached him. 'I'm all ears, beautiful.'

She blinked. Uncalled for, but following a will stronger of its own, her mirror image from less than half an hour ago came forth to haunt her. Boring brown eyes? Check. Dull brown hair that was neither long enough to reach her waist, nor short enough to qualify her as a tough looking chick with a soldier's haircut? Of course. Insipid hair strands that were neither curly, nor straight? By all means. Ordinary body, not worthy enough of the adjective 'curvy'? Definitely. Insignificant height? Sure thing. Flat chest, still denied the aid of her special bra? Absolutely. Finally, sour facial expression due to the delightful invasion of self esteem issues? Hell, yes! She did not even need a mirror to see it. Since she was trying to believe that everyone was innocent until proven otherwise, she assumed that he had not been recently deprived of his eyesight, nor was he particularly inclined towards random acts of mockery. Which left her with only one logical question to ask. 'Why do I get the impression that you are not serious?'.

He fidgeted the same way a pet who is aware of doing something wrong tries to hide under the nearest furniture. 'Maybe I'm just avoiding your questions.' There was no furniture around; his eyes had to meet hers. 'Is this really necessary?'

'I just would like to know you better.'

'Oh. Well, if it's an interrogation you wanted, why didn't you say so?'

He was shuffling his feet, kicking around the pavement's non existent loose stones. Always a bad sign. She started to wonder whether all her attempts to get to know him better would result in alienating him faster than a naked Dark Jedi with tattoos who was waving a lightsaber to his face and asking for a date would. 'This is not an interrogation. I have never said that.'

A jury would have reluctantly given him a 3 out of 10 for his performance at a casual smile. 'No, I was just joking, though you do seem to be full of questions. It's rather refreshing, to be honest.' He stroke his jaw, and the pretence in his voice suddenly disappeared. 'Let me ask you something first, though. I've been going through the battle aboard the Endar Spire over and over in my head since we crashed. Some things just don't add up for me. Maybe you could tell me what happened... from your perspective.'

'Like you told me: Bastila did not have time to use her powers in their entirety.'

'True. Bastila is as powerful as they say... she's the one who defeated Darth Revan, after all. Hmm, I guess that no Jedi ability, no matter how powerful, makes up for being completely surprised and outmatched. We didn't choose that battle, anyway. It got forced on us. Hell, I'm just surprised that any of us are alive to talk about it.' He paused to give her a short side-glance. 'Come to think of it, it's more than a little surprising that you happen to be here, isn't it? Just what is your position with the Republic fleet, anyway?'

She had nothing against him returning the favour in the complicated conversational process that was meant to get people more accustomed to each other. Nevertheless, she could not shake a feeling of apprehension. The direction in which his questions were going made her feel as serene and relaxed as an out of control speeder heading her way would have. 'I have worked as a scout in various unofficial missions for as long as I can remember. A couple of weeks ago, the Republic contacted me and offered to hire me for an exploration mission on the Omwat planet. Though, at the rate at which my draft report about the planet has been going so far, it is quite likely that the planet will remain a mystery for a while. Anyway, when I finished my mission there, I received orders about my transfer to the Endar Spire. '

'Well, that makes sense.' His expression cooled by several degrees as he regarded her. 'Still... it seems a bit strange that someone who was a last-minute addition to the crew roster is one of the survivors.'

No, it bloody well was not. But, afraid that his allusions at possible hidden, ulterior motives would twist Trask's treasured gesture into something else entirely, she definitely did not want to tell him about it. Instead, evasive manoeuvres heralded themselves like a better idea. 'What is so odd about me being added to the crew at the last minute?'

A thoughtful frown. And then a refusal to meet her eyes, accompanied by that dreadful feet shuffle again. 'You were the only one. Not to mention that Bastila's party was the one who requested your transfer.'

Livia crossed her arms to stop herself from strangling out of Carth all the disturbing insinuations at once. 'Why would Bastila request my transfer?'

'The Jedi requested numerous things when they came on board... hell, they practically took over the ship, as far as I could tell.' More shuffling of feet. More jaw strokes. More sideways glances. The apocalypse was nigh. 'Considering your connection to Bastila and the Jedi... whether you know it or not... your presence here seems a little convenient. I'm probably wrong and this is probably nothing, I know. I learned a long time ago not to take things at face value, however. And I _hate_ surprises.'

Livia looked past him, as her mind carefully went over everything that he had said. '_Has he just implied that I might have been behind the Endar Spire fiasco?_' She took a long breath. She had to be wrong. She had to. Otherwise, she would have to somehow make peace with the idea that the nutter in front of her was accusing her of sabotage against a ship full of people, including one whom she had secretly fancied. She would not think about it. 'Should we not be trying to work together?'

'I _am _working with you. I'd be a fool not to. I'd also be a fool not to expect the unexpected.'

'You do know we are on the same side, right?'

'Look... it has nothing to do with you, personally. I don't trust anyone, and I have my reasons. And no, I'm not going to discuss them. So can we just keep our mind on more important things?'

By now she was so furious at his confusing signals and accusations that she wanted to make him at least as uncomfortable as she was. Considering Carth's nice, polite and amiable reactions to people interested in getting to know him better, her best weapons had to be shameless indiscretion and stubbornness. 'I consider this important.'

He glared at her as if he was expecting her to give up and admit defeat in the 'I can so out-frown you!' contest. However, even though Livia usually believed that patience was something that happened to other people, she was still occasionally capable to summon it to her aid. And keep it under a tight leash until it got her what she wanted. She glared back. Several minutes of mutual glowering later, her mission was accomplished: exasperation stole the place of paranoia.

'All right, all right. You must be the most damned persistent woman I've ever met. We'll talk about it... but later. Right now I just want to get going. Don't want to be late for the duels.'

She promised herself that this would not be the end of it. Entitled or not, his suspicions were as palatable as an exotic and poisonous type of fungus. Granted, she, too, would have perhaps hesitated before trusting a complete stranger, but there was a damn long road to walk from that to sabotage allegations. She vowed not to speak to him again. Ever. Hoth's sun would turn into a nova, and the planet's surface would become a wasted desert populated by Hutt children empires before she would talk to him again. Kashyyyk's forests would wither and die in powerful tempests caused by an Ithorian conspiracy before Carth would hear a word from -

The cantina was just in front of them. Righteous sulking could certainly wait. 'Are you sure the duels are safe?'

'Ajuur said so, and, at the moment, I have no reason to think he was lying. We'll soon find out.' Carth got closer to the Hutt, who beamed at his approach.

'What will it be, human? Vibroblades or blasters for your first duel?'

'Blasters. Who is my opponent?'

'You're new at this, so I'll start you off easy. You get to fight Deadeye Duncan.' Ajuur regarded Livia from head to toes, and a greedy smirk appeared on his face. 'Your mate will no doubt want to watch your performance from the arena's front rows. Those seats have been sold out since I had announced your participation in this duel, but for fifty credits, I can arrange - '

'Not his mate. I am his colleague. And a view screen will do just fine, thank you.'

'Suit yourself, tiny human. But you don't know what you're missing.' He scoffed at her and gave his full attention to Carth. 'Only one rule - nobody dies. Your opponent goes down, you don't finish them off. Death matches are illegal now. Now, are you ready for the duel?'

Carth gave his vibroblades to Livia and took out his blasters from their holsters. One of Ajuur's minions appeared to lead him to the Arena. Livia approached the nearest view screen, put on its headphones and mentally prepared herself not to have a panic attack. She wanted to have faith in both the Hutt's honesty and in Carth's ability to handle himself, but this was easier said than done.

The commentator's voice boomed in her ears. 'Ladies and gentlemen, draw your eyes to the centre ring! We have a very special presentation in store for you: You've seen him lose night after night after night. But this time, he's after fresh meat. In this corner, I give you Deadeye Duncan!' A small and very skinny old man came forth. His entire appearance screamed something along the lines 'I am so clumsy that I could slip and fall over even in a catatonic sleep'. The crowd sniggered at him.

'And in the other corner, a relative newcomer to the Taris duelling scene. Emerging from the shadows with no history, no past and no name... the Mysterious Stranger!' Forty or so metres across from the old man, Carth stood as still as a very relaxed wall of muscles, hands near his blasters.

The old man unsheathed his vibroblades. With a battle cry that seemed to intimidate himself more than his opponent, he ran towards Carth. Carth's hands moved in a blur, and his blasters were suddenly pointing at his opponent. Before he had the time to attack, however, Deadeye Duncan stumbled and said 'Hiya!' to the floor, in an awkward heap of messy clothes and misplaced vibroblades. Carth hesitated for a second and then, with a barely visible shrug, fired his weapons at his opponent's feet.

Bored applause accompanied the commentator's voice. 'And the Mysterious Stranger wins! But Deadeye losing isn't news. You have to do better than that to impress us, Stranger! Don't worry, folks - he's just unconscious. As usual. Our medics will have him up and about in a bit.'

Livia started to clap, but stopped herself short when she realised what she was doing. Instead, she focused on what was happening in the arena. Carth and a medical droid helped Deadeye Duncan get up. A power chair transporting his enormous weight, Ajuur joined them and gave the prize to Carth. Livia rolled her eyes when the Hutt announced the grand amount: a hundred credits. A real fortune. Then again, it was certainly better than nothing. She reached up to remove her headphones, positive that Carth would join her back at the cantina, when she noticed him nod at the Hutt.

And then the commentator's voice punished her ears again: 'Ladies and gentlemen, do not leave your seats! The show has yet to begin!' A murmur went over the crowd. The Hutt left for the front rows again, and Carth resumed his initial position. At the opposite end, a tall, middle aged man was checking his blasters. 'In this corner, one of the greats; a man so tough even a disfiguring injury couldn't end his career. I give you Gerlon Two-Fingers!'

Livia instantly hated his battle-hungry appearance. Carth, though, seemed to be indifferent to his opponent's casual playful moves with his blaster. 'And in this corner, a man who vowed not to rest until he makes a name for himself tonight - ladies and gentlemen, The Mysterious Stranger!'

With a 'ding', the second duel started. And it was over less than five seconds after the signal to fight; blink, and you could have missed it. Livia, too focused on keeping her adrenaline levels at peace, did not even blink. She saw Gerlon draw out his blaster and aim it at Carth. Almost at the same time, two scarlet beams of energy coming from Carth's blasters hit him in his right and left shoulder. With a shudder and a thud, he fell on the floor, accompanied by this time more enthusiastic applause from the crowd.

'Gerlon losing to a rookie: is this a sign that his injuries have finally caught up with him? Or is the Mysterious Stranger for real? Only time will tell! Ladies and gentlemen, the show must and it _will_ go on!' For the second time, the Hutt used his power chair to advance to where Carth was and handed him the prize, two hundred credits this time. Again, Livia's hands went up to remove her headphones.

A déjà vu feeling freezing her on the spot, she stopped once more to listen to the commentator's weak stabs at creative announcements: 'Over in this corner, a woman with steel on her bones and ice water in her veins. She's cold and quick as death itself. You know her, you love her... Ice!' A slender, but tough looking woman waved her blaster at the crowd.

'And in the other corner, a rising star taking that first step into the big leagues... I give you the Mysterious Stranger'

Livia gasped. She could feel her heart beating so loudly that she expected it to obscure the sound in her headphones. Where in the Nine Hells had he managed to get a vibroblade? His grip on it seemed to be shaky. Ice aimed and fired her blaster. The high concentrated beam of energy coloured a line to where Carth was... a couple of seconds ago. Almost too fast for the eyes to chase his trek, he got near his opponent and knocked the blaster out of her hands, surrounded by the last erratic red energy beams coming from her weapon. He then kicked her legs from under her.

She fell and grasped the vibroblade at her belt. The weapon slashed across Carth's left arm. Undisturbed, he dodged the next strike. When she reached for him, he took advantage of her exposed position and punched her in the face. Ice fell again. Her right hand moved to swing the weapon it was carrying, but with no success. Carth's foot had stepped on it, and his sword was pointing at her throat. The crowd remained silent, as Ice fought in vain to release her weapon. With a withering look at Carth, the woman turned her head and shook her head at the arbiter.

'Ice is knocked out cold! Looks like we have a rising star in the Mysterious Stranger, folks: but how high can this star soar? You'll just have to watch and see!'

This time, Livia did remove her headphones. And then ran for it. She got at the arena just in time to see the Hutt and his by now familiar power chair near Carth once more.

'Ah, good thing you're here, tiny human. For the next fight, your mate will require his own vibroblades. I think it's time he fought Marl. He's getting up there in years, but he's still very, very good. He used to be the duel champion.'

Livia ignored him to glare at Carth. 'Are you completely off your rocker? Just how many of these duels do you plan to fight in the same evening?'

A strange expression clouded his face. 'As many as it takes. Already, we're six hundred credits richer. Just a couple more duels, and we'll have enough.'

'Listen, just because a bunch of crazy people cheer on for the Enigmatic Stranger to entertain them with body parts spilling all over the place, it does not mean that you have to do this until you drop dead.'

'It's "The _Mysterious_ Stranger", thank you very much. My vibroblades, please.'

'I stand corrected. It still sounds extremely cheesy, even for a two-neurons brain such as your own', she snapped. 'Now come, we have enough credits.'

'Your timing for this discussion is terrible. Besides, where do you get off telling me what to do?'

'I will not allow you to endanger your health needlessly, you bloodthirsty troglodyte!'

He glowered at her. 'Don't you go around in uncalled for over-protection mode just because, out of the two of us, I seem to be the only one concerned about the fact that we're almost broke.'

The Hutt made everything worse when he laughed at her. 'As I believe I said, the duels are perfectly safe. Now, unless you're going to give him his vibroblades, get out of my arena.'

Livia was so furious that she wanted to headbutt Ajuur. Then again, he was the size of a small mountain, so perhaps that would not be a favourite contender to the title of Cleverest Move of her career. She could use Carth's body instead. There was, however, something very wrong with the idea to actually lift a man so much taller and heavier than her in order to hurl him into the half laughing, half sputtering in outrage pile of meat in front of her. She exhaled and glacial calm poured from her in waves when she wrinkled her nose at Carth. 'Fine. Be a reckless barbarian for all I care. I did not want to save a stupid princess anyway. I hope that, when you find her, the two of you will have a nice life on this fantastic planet.'

She turned to leave, but he grabbed her arm and gently pushed her away from Ajuur's hearing range. 'Look, I... I appreciate the concern. Honestly, I do. However, I'm perfectly capable to take care of myself, and the duels are safe. Besides, I could use the training. Not to mention the credits we get from this - they'll help us to save Bastila.'

'Granted, I do tend to be occasionally thick, but I still feel quite blind at the supposed safety behind that bleeding arm of yours. Care to help my vision get better?'

'The medical droid will take care of it. Now, please, just give me my vibroblades. Only two more duels to go, and then we'll leave this wretched arena, I promise.'

A promise required trust. Now that was a request she did not see coming. She searched his eyes. The haunted, odd look from before was completely gone. Grim resolve and confidence had replaced it. She hoped that she would get to find out an explanation for that look with time. And patience. Bloody hell, did she need a lot of patience. 'Very well, Carth. I trust you on this.' She watched the stunned expression on his face and summoned an evil grin on her face. 'Fail to live up to your promise, or get seriously injured on your way to it, though, and I shall beat the living hell out of you. With a burning stick. And then, I shall skin you alive and make myself a set of armour out of the remains. I will then dye it purple, with orange stripes.'

'Understood', he laughed. 'I'll add this to my list, then, right on top of the other threats.'

'What list?'

'The list that contains the awfully frightening stuff I have to dread whenever Livia, someone as dangerous as a minuscule gizka, promises horrific repercussions.'

Her laughter joined his, as he slowly took his weapons from her hands and guided her back to the Hutt. 'Ajuur, Livia will remain in the arena. Thanks for offering to give her one of your best seats for free.'

'I did no such thing! Fifty credits will -'

'Oh? If she doesn't get one of your best seats, I won't duel anymore. Think of all the money you'll lose that way.'

Ajuur's giant body stiffened. And then it shook with laughter. 'You have a lot of nerve, human. The crowd loves you, though. It's been a long time since there have been so many bets. I guess I can arrange a free seat for your mate, in spite of her disrespectful behaviour. Why you humans cannot reproduce the normal way is beyond me, but what is even more shocking is how you choose such foul mouthed partners to berate you at every turn.'

Cheerfully ignoring her mental orders to the contrary, her irrational imagination offered much too graphic speculation about what the Hutt - who, like all members of his species, was a hermaphrodite - meant by 'the normal way to reproduce'. Livia twitched. 'I am not -' Her voice gave up. There was no point in arguing with a Hutt. She let him guide her to one of the front row seats and observed the medical droid while it treated Carth's seemingly superficial wound.

The bloody galling commentator voice charged at her from all directions, its volume and triteness inflicting many different flavours of agony. 'He's a legend in the sport, a twenty year veteran who still knows how to show the young kids a trick or two. Let's have a big hand for... Marl!' The crowd yelled in appreciation when a man older than Deadeye Duncan, but with nothing of the latter's clumsiness in posture, took his place at the opposite end of the arena from Carth. A mean looking double bladed sword glinted in his hands. Calm and competence fought for the front seat on his face. It was a tie, to Livia's annoyance.

'But there's always some young gun coming up to knock the veterans off... and we've got one of the best right here! I give you, the Mysterious Stranger!'

Carth remained motionless and alert as Marl charged at him. He eluded the first blow, parried the second and diverted the third. They chased each other across the arena. Carth on the defensive, Marl gaining ground with each strike. With a speed that should have not existed considering his old age, Marl darted forward, and his blade met Carth's once more. Sparks flew around the swords' meeting point. Carth's left hand was shaking under the double bladed sword's pressure. Marl took advantage of the weakness and forced the weapon out of his hand. He then aimed for Carth's heart. The crowd went 'Ooooh!'. Livia sputtered a small and targeted array of invectives. They all involved counting the places in which she could stick Marl's sword after she finished feeding various bits of him to Mustafar lava fleas.

Fortunately, Carth ducked in time to receive only a slash across his left shoulder. He recovered quickly, but did not waste precious moments trying to recover his weapon. Step by step, feint by feint, he drove Marl back, using an offensive set of moves that would have been much more effective had he had both of his weapons. He faked a retreat to his left, and Marl bought it. Carth did not miss the opportunity to exploit his mistake. Less than a second later, Marl was on the floor.

The commentator's voice managed to dominate even the very enthusiastic - and sinister, in Livia's opinion - applause from the crowd. 'Marl is down, and questions abound! Is this the end for the long time vet? Is it time for Marl to hang up his spurs? And what of the Mysterious Stranger? Twitch is waiting in the wings... do you dare take a shot at the champion himself? Will the wild-eyed wonder finally be unseated?'

The medical droid and Ajuur surrounded Carth and Marl, fully obscuring Livia's view. She opened her clenched fists. Deep fingernails marks adorned her palms. She wondered if there was a way to take some meditation classes. All that adrenaline was certainly not natural. If Carth could keep his calm in front of duelling partners determined to defeat him, why could she not do the same, who was just a spectator? She knew the answer before she even finished her question: that damned cowardice of hers. She started to count. Again.

A Rodian entered the arena and took his place forty metres across from Carth. He looked as if he was the very reason why 'blaster rifle' should never be allowed to enter an unholy marriage with 'mad entity bent to maim everything that moves in a heartbeat'. 'Ladies and gentlemen, hold on to your seats and stay back from the edges of the ring! He's wild, he's unpredictable, he's borderline psychotic... and he's the best damn duellist in the game today. Give it up for Twitch!' The crowd happily obliged.

'But Twitch's opponent plans to take the champion down! Battle after battle, we've watched this young phenom rise through the ranks... In this corner, the challenger for the title of Taris Duelling Champion - the Mysterious Stranger!' Carth did not seem to particularly love the propaganda behind the 'young' adjective. Nor the applause around him.

That loathsome 'ding' sound again. Red beams of energy dashed across the arena, bouncing off the energy fields. None seemed to make an impact on either Carth or Twitch. They were both dodging and firing their weapons almost at the same time. The coloured webs continued to weave themselves for a good deal of time. Until Carth fell. Or so it seemed. Because faster than the eyes could follow, he was rolling on the floor towards his opponent. At angles and positions that were awkward, probably uncomfortable and definitely a strain on both the eyes of the spectators and himself, he had covered half the distance between himself and Twitch, blasters still firing.

The Rodian finally realised that it was pointless to aim at a moving target and slithered on the floor as well. Beams of energy continued to bounce off the arena's energy fields, as the duellists half crawled, half ran-in-the-wrong-position towards each other. They finally met, and both drew themselves up almost at the same time, vibroblades in their hands and already exchanging sparkly greetings.

The crowd was as silent as an eerie board meeting among spirits, eyes fixed on the arena, where neither of the opponents was gaining any ground. Parry, dodge, block, duck. On and on it went for what seemed like hours, only the order and the frequency having the decency to vary from time to time. Stroke for stroke, Carth measured up to his opponent's offensive moves.

But he was getting tired. His mere determination to win credits was no match for the devoted love for blood that his maniacal opponent nurtured. And it was beginning to show. His feet trembled under the weight. With a groan and his balance almost lost, Carth fought to keep control. His opponent's blade clashed against his. Extra pressure on it and all. Carth collapsed. Craziness surrounding him like a foul cloud of smelly Gamorrean food, Twitch brought down his vibroblade.

Carth rolled away just in time, though his right foot wasn't so lucky. Blood coloured the arena. He span and punched the Rodian in his stomach. Staggering, the alien struggled for breath. Carth ruined his plans with another punch in the stomach. The Rodian swayed, and his vibroblade did not protest when Carth's weapon made it clatter away from his hands. Another punch, and then a slash of Carth's sword.

'It's over! The fight is over! The Mysterious Stranger has won! Twitch's reign of terror is over! Ladies and gentlemen, we have a new champion - the Mysterious Stranger!'

Thunder struck, in the form of powerful applause that muted Livia's huge sigh of relief. Paying hardly any notice to the insanity around her, she ran towards the arena. The mob of humans and aliens, trying to step over each other in their eagerness to get an autograph from Carth, joyfully ruined her plans to reach him. Her impatience resented the temporary setback; it took control of her foot and made it tap a steady and angry rhythm. She offered the one thousand and five hundred credits that Carth had won as a small distraction to her restlessness. It did not help. So count again, she did. On her way to the exit. Because there was no way in hell that she was going to wait until he had finished with his fangirls. A barking, growling and quite scary being had taken possession of her stomach. It would not be ignored.

She was back in the cantina and on her way to the bar when someone took her arm. 'Where have you been? I've looked for you everywhere, but couldn't see you. I was beginning to believe that someone had accidentally stepped on you.'

'Not my fault that I was not blessed with the size of a skyscraper and forced to duck when star ships passed over my head. Do pets cower away in fear when you bend to feed them, Carth?'

'Heh, that's a lot of envy crammed up in such little space. How did you manage?'

She ordered drinks and food for the both of them and then flashed her teeth at him. 'But I am _delighted _that you are so much taller than me. It gives me more of you to mock.'

'Oh, no, I refuse to go into a war of sarcasms with you, sister. I've always believed that it lacked honour to attack a defenceless opponent.'

Livia almost choked with her drink. How dared he? She tried to contain her laughter and talked in a voice so sweet that she could practically feel her teeth decaying from the abuse, 'The next time you shave... Could you please close your eyes and stand a little closer to the razor?'

'Not bad. Not bad at all.' He watched the waitress put their food on the table. Then he eyed Livia and said in a sultry voice, 'You have this strange tendency to grow on people... like a wart.'

She laughed with him and began to eat. 'Do keep talking. And please ignore my dozing off; I always do that when I am dying to hear what comes next.'

She scanned the room. A band of Twi'Leks was mercilessly butchering an innocent and otherwise popular song. No one jumped to its defence, so the song continued its wails of despair, as the torturers punished it with bodily harm. The room was getting crowded. Thankfully, none of the aliens and humans around seemed anxious to bow to Carth and offer to sacrifice virgin blasé tree goats in honour of his performance at the duels. A tall, dark haired man was playing with his drink at the opposite end of the bar. Livia's heart bounced around in glee when she noticed his features. Now that was someone who could make her die a happy woman just by his mere existence.

She regarded Carth in passing; he was busy with his lunch. Good. That meant she had some time to steal greedy - but hopefully a little bit more subtle than a Sith interdictor ship - glances at the attractive man. Come to think of it, he did remind her a bit of her last boyfriend. Except for the obsessive compulsive disorder, of course. Then again, she could not be sure from such a distance.

Oh, dear. He was staring back. And she did not have her special bra on her, or even poor attempts at make up on her face. Stupid, stupid Livia. Her cheeks burned. She dragged a smile on her face. Grand, that will surely impress him. The way a flirtatious Duros with a skin disease would. She focused on the crucial importance of the miniscule spot of dirt next to her hand and tried again. This time, she could feel the harmony between what her lips and eyes were doing. She forced herself to hang on to that feeling and gazed at him again. He got up from his chair and started to head her way. And there were no places to hide.

'Hi there. I haven't seen you around before. Of course, they don't give us Sith officers from the military base much time off...'

Good grief. Why did the only gorgeous man around who actually seemed interested in her have to be a freaking Sith? To her left, Carth tensed. Yikes. She had to do something. 'You are from the military base? You do not look like one of the Sith.'

'I'm off duty right now, so I'm not in uniform. My name is Yun Genda - junior officer first class with the Sith occupation force.'

Sith or no Sith, she did not have it in her to be rude to such a splendid specimen. Well, not unless she wanted to face an inner hormonal rebellion that would get her committed to a nice and peaceful place with many doctors in white shirts. And long needles. And lots of pills. 'Pleased to meet you, Yun. My name is Livia. This is my colleague, Carth.'

Yun sat down on the empty chair next to her and nodded briefly at Carth. He ordered a drink and smiled at Livia. 'I'm actually a little surprised you're talking to me at all... most of the people here on Taris can't stand us Sith. It can make this a pretty lonely job.'

'And with good reason! You -'

Livia stepped on Carth's right foot and glared at him. 'Please forgive my colleague. His doctor said that the medication will stop the hallucinations and blabbering in a couple of days, at most. What he would have said, had he been in the right state of mind, is that you are just doing your job. Personally, I... I do not hold that against you.' She refused to glance at Carth again. She could practically feel his eyes using her back as a dartboard. With red circles and a giant 'Stab here!' mark in the centre.

'That's true, but people don't appreciate what we've done for them. We could have slapped a curfew on this whole planet, but we didn't. You know, it's like everyone on this backwater planet is in a permanent bad mood. Don't they know they have to make the best of things?'

It was one thing to act with compassion when she heard about someone who was lonely because people judged him by his uniform; after all, perhaps not all Sith were rotten to the core. However, it was quite another to be understanding about the generosity behind the lack of a curfew. She cringed slightly. A certain amount of hypocrisy was definitely needed, lest she wanted her and Carth's incognito quest go to hell. Double standards came easy enough for her in this case: all she had to do was to focus on Yun's handsome face and body, as opposed to what he actually was saying. Non-committal sympathetic comments were less of an effort that way. 'Everybody has their ups and downs... it is how you deal with them that counts.'

'Exactly! It's all about attitude. I didn't ask to be assigned to this backwater planet, but I try to make the best of it. It's pretty easy to get depressed on an assignment like this, but we do what we can to keep our spirits up.'

Why, why, why did he have to be a Sith? The man sounded like he could have been a decent person otherwise. Probably one of the Sith's brainwashing victims. 'It must be tough, being stationed on a hostile world.'

'That's true. It's nice to meet someone who understands what I'm going through. It's good to talk about this stuff - it gets pretty lonely at the military base.' He glanced at his chrono, and regret sank his shoulders when he smiled shyly. 'I have to get going soon - I've got a shift at the military base. But some of us junior Sith officers are having a party tonight to blow off some steam. I'd really like to see you again. Why don't you drop by the party? I'll show you where it is on your datapad.'

The temptation to check if Carth's fuming had left holes the size of fully armoured Mandalorians in her back poked her. She resisted it and smiled back at Yun, handing him her datapad. 'Sounds good. I will be there.'

'Don't be late. We're starting right after our shifts end. Most of us won't even go back to the base to lock up our uniforms. I look forward to seeing you there.'

Carth waited for him to finish his drink, smile again at Livia and leave. Then he finally exploded. 'Oh, that's just great. Would you like to bring a couple of Republic soldier body parts as your contribution to that party? You know, instead of drinks. You and your Sith friend could use them as decorations on the walls. To cheer things up a little.'

'Stop acting like such a baby. It is just a party. People use this strange device to have fun. And I might find out important information.'

'Or you could damn the both of us, and Bastila too, just because you're too busy drooling over a pretty face and body to actually know where your loyalties should lie.'

'I wouldn't trust you even if this was the only thing standing between me and death by evisceration' feelings emanated in furious whirlwinds from him. He seemed now even more convinced that not only she had helped with the ambush on the Endar Spire, but in her spare time, she probably dissected old ladies and sold their organs while she pretended to help them find their glasses. 'Would it make you feel better if I told you that I believe that whatever it is that has taken place between me and Yun just now is a doomed affair? Attracted to each other, but could never be together because one, Livia hates people who try to take over the galaxy - like the Sith - and two, people who try to take over the galaxy hate those who kill them and loot their bodies - like Livia?'

'No. I will come to the party with you. To keep an eye on you.'

'But you do not even have an invitation and -'

'Hello, handsome. Saw you in those duels this afternoon. What does someone as talented as you do on a planet as obscure as this one? Running away from your harem, hmm?'

Carth and Livia turned around, mouths still open in their eagerness to continue their argument. A beautiful blonde woman casually ran a hand through her hair. She then eyed Carth the way bantha looked at bantha fodder.

'Um... Hi.'

'You're the quiet type, eh? Can't say I actually blame you. Must be hard dealing with all the women who are chasing the hero of the Taris duels. My name is Sarna.'

Doing a decent impression of a human forced to pet a snake, Carth shook her extended hand. 'I'm, I'm Carth. And this is... my colleague, Livia.'

'Charmed', said Sarna, studying Livia in passing with the same attention to detail she would have given to a piece of metamorphic rock. She released Carth's hand and fluttered her eyelashes. 'I came here to get a drink, listen to some music and try to relax before my next shift at the military base. How about you? What do you do to relax?'

Carth seemed to have trouble breathing. He stared at his empty plate. 'I, I... eat a lot. So you're with the Sith?'

'Surprised?' she giggled. 'I don't wear my uniform when I'm off duty. It's not allowed. In fact, anyone in uniform is banned from entering the cantina. The officers don't even like it when we show up here off duty. Don't like us fraternising with the locals, I guess. But it gets pretty stale hanging around the base all the time. Besides, the Sith don't own me. Being a soldier in their fleet is just a job, you know? A job with long hours and low pay, I might add.'

As he squirmed and stuttered under Sarna's suggestive glances and words, Livia had all kinds of fun. Not only he had to deal with a beautiful woman hitting on him, but he also had to play nice with the Sith. Curiosity at how he would get out of this situation irked her. 'Sounds like, like you aren't very... happy.'

'When I signed up, I was promised adventure and excitement in exotic locales. Instead, I end up stationed at a military base on some backwater planet on the fringes of the galaxy. If I could find just some other way to earn some credits, I could give this lousy job up. Retire my uniform, so to speak.'

'I, I... see. Must be difficult to have a job you... hate so much.'

'Yeah. Of course, there are always good sides as well.'

'Such as taking over Taris and enjoying its supply of Tarisian ale without actually having to pay for it?'

Sarna's common sense had probably capitulated in front of other more basic needs a long time ago because his sarcasm failed to make its point on her. 'I meant parties. We tend to cool off and complain to each other during parties. I have a shift right about now, but this evening one of my colleagues has planned an awesome party. Would you like to come? We'll even have Tarisian ale.'

'There's nothing in this world that could stop me from attending.'

She inserted the necessary directions in his datapad while he regarded Livia with triumph in his eyes. And poorly disguised gloating. Sarna gave him one last 'I would like to see you wearing only whipped cream' look and waved her hand at him. 'I can't wait to meet you there!'

Livia watched her glide her way towards the exit. 'Fraternising with the enemy, Carth? And drooling over them?'

'Of course not', he snarled. 'Just making sure that you don't do anything stupid behind my back.'

'Right. Like taking over the Sith empire via prompt use of my wile feminine charms and using its power to make your life a living hell throughout the galaxy. You ruined my otherwise flawless plan with your noble sacrifice to force yourself into shameless flirting with a pretty woman. How very shrewd of you.'

He had the decency to blush. 'Don't be ridiculous. I had to be nice to her because otherwise I'd have ruined our disguise.'

'Indeed. However, I would like you to put your paranoia on hold for a moment and just listen to me: both Yun and Sarna will attend the party as soon as their shifts end. Like Yun said, this means that they will probably not even change from their uniforms.'

'Yeah, so? Oh...'

'Yes. I dare suggest that had you been less obsessed with the idea that I will backstab you with the first occasion, you might have thought of this sooner.'

'Point taken', he muttered after a short pause.

'See, no blood on the floor. So that surely hurt less than you expected it to?'

He smirked. 'I'm not conceding anything. Just because you have made a valid point, it doesn't mean that I'll stop watching you.'

'Fine. Bask in my beauty, see if I care. I am so used to it by now that I do not even notice fanboys like you anymore. The line is over there.'

He laughed. Then he blanched slightly, clutching his stomach. 'Ajuur's medical droids said that I should rest for a while before the treatment is fully effective. We should go back to the apartment.'

'Oh, and you could not have mentioned this sooner because you had to suffer stoically in silence. Gah, Carth, the way you impact on my nerves, I swear you will be the death of me. Come on.' She got up from her chair and waited for him to follow. In vain. Because his right leg was shaking, and his skin kept blanching. Livia put her arm around his waist and rolled her eyes when she noticed the expression on his face. 'Enough with the martyr demeanour already. I will not use my cunning arm to rearrange your ribs in the form of a flower, or to take advantage of your innocence in a dark corner. You really are not my type. Too many muscles, too few grey cells, too high maintenance paranoia.'

He burst out in laughter, but his arm went around her shoulder. 'I know. You tend to go for smarmy, passive aggressive and semi-depressed guys who enjoy trying to ruin everyone's lives with their berserk quest for power. Oh, almost forgot: men with less than perfect looks need not apply. My loss, I assume.'

*******

Carth woke up and groaned. His right leg still hurt like hell. As a matter of fact, so did his left arm and chest. A swarm of Alderaan furry moths wielding needles and thread would have done a better job at patching him up than Ajuur's medical droids, whose only saving grace was their ability to make injuries hurt less so that people could get through the duels. Until pain settled in and made itself at home. Limping slightly, he got up from the bed and looked around. No sign of Livia. He couldn't hear the shower either, so she was presumably not in the bathroom. He checked it anyway. But no one deigned to answer his knock. She had said that she'd keep watch while he rested. Obviously, she was not on friendly terms with keeping true to her word.

He sat down on the bed and checked the chrono on the wall. Only one hour left until the Sith party. He started to think what he could do. Despite his accusations of her possible involvement in betrayals and sabotage, a part of him doubted that Livia went her merry way to make out with the Sith without at least dishing a world of imaginative threats and insults on him. Not that he didn't like most of them. Other than their fight in the duelling arena, which had been completely, doubtlessly, utterly, obviously the fault of her over protectiveness, he got quite a kick out of the playfulness behind their mutual and constant teasing.

He checked his pockets. Out of the amount of credits he had won at the duel, about half were missing. A grim satisfaction swept over him when he considered the possibility of her betrayal again. To his surprise, a feeling of defeat accompanied it. Sure, it was always nice to be proven right, but if being right meant that another nail in the coffin of his trust in other people elatedly joined the others...

There were limits to the amounts of bitterness and cynicism that anyone could handle without losing their sanity and grip of reality. Or so he had heard. He'd soon grow to be such a morose person that he'd begin to lack trust even in himself. Not that he could honestly see the badness in that. After all, better to expect the worst and be surprised when the opposite happened, than the other way around, which involved people like Saul punching their way through the ideals of unsuspecting and unprepared men.

On the other hand, just how was he supposed to save Bastila on his own? He had to find Livia. And drag her kicking and screaming away from the Sith's way too eager arms. He exited the apartment and staggered towards the elevator.

A heavy object hurled against a wall. A barely audible swear word. And then a muffled sound of crying. He turned around. The sounds were coming from the apartment next to the hideout. He limped closer to the door and listened. More with the crying. Sounded like a female. He knocked. No reply. It could be Livia, in some sort of trouble. Then again, he kind of failed to see the logic behind her choice to brood in a locked apartment next to theirs. Curiosity needled at him, turning his modicum of patience into dust. He studied the lock. It was a pretty basic device, much like the lock to their own apartment, but without the special modifications he had made to it. He worked his way around the feeble attempts at security in front of him.

The door opened to reveal a dark haired woman, who was rapidly wiping away her tears. 'Who are you? What are you doing in here? You can't just come in barging into someone's home!'

'I'm sorry. I was... was just investigating the area.'

'That's no excuse! You can't just go around barging into people's apartments because you're curious! But at least you're more polite than that pig, Holdan.'

'Holdan?'

'Just one of Davik's men who can't keep his hands to himself. But all he got for his trouble was a nasty scar from my vibroblade! Too bad I'm the one still paying the price.'

'What do you mean?'

'I... I don't want to talk about it. I'm in enough trouble already. Besides, I don't know if I can trust you.'

So a pig was the reason why she had been crying. Women in distress had always had a weird hold on him. He turned to leave, but his consciousness wouldn't hear of it. 'You can trust me. Maybe I can help.' How ironic that he had to convince someone of his own trustworthiness.

She studied him from head to toes. 'Well, I suppose you seem like an all right sort', she conceded with a shrug. 'When I cut Holdan, it made him back off, but it also embarrassed him in front of his friends. Holdan's a spiteful little Hutt-slug. He went and put out a bounty on my head for what I did. That's why I'm hiding here.'

He didn't have time for this. And yet... Damn his inability to resist a woman's tears. 'Maybe I could speak to Holdan for you.'

'You could try, I guess. He usually hangs out at the cantina in the Lower City. It probably won't do any good. Holdan's used to getting his own way. That's one of the fringe benefits of being a goon for Davik. Working for the crime lord lets you get away with things. Still, I appreciate the offer. My name is Dia, by the way.'

'I'm Carth', he smiled back. 'If I run across Holdan, I'll definitely talk to him. I have to go now.'

'Goodbye, and good luck. I hope you can talk some sense into him.'

So did he. But first things first. Back to the elevator to find that backstabbing supposed colleague of his. And when he finds her, he'll - The elevator's door opened. Livia and Zelka stepped out of it. She was carrying a package, while the doctor had his familiar medpac. Zelka greeted him with a smile and Livia with a frown.

'What are you doing out of bed? I thought you were supposed to sleep.'

He couldn't exactly tell her the truth. Not until he had made sure of her intentions and the reasons for her absence. 'I, I... was on my way to the... the cantina, when I heard this woman crying, and -'

Eyebrows raised so high that they almost reached the rebel strands of hair on her forehead, hands on her hips, and eyes so narrowed that one could use them as knives, Livia wasn't buying it. 'Go on.'

He told her hurriedly of the Dia-Holdan incident and concluded, 'We should help her if we come across this Holdan guy.'

'Indeed. It will have to wait, though. No access to the Lower City without Sith uniforms. No Sith uniforms without the party. And no party without Zelka checking your wounds first. Apartment? That way.' She took his arm and gently turned him towards the apartment. 'The doctor has been kind enough to accept yet another housecall visit.'

'Ajuur's droids were -'

'Overrated. I grew older by ten years just by watching you writhe your way through what was supposed to be a restful sleep.'

'That's what I wanted to say', he said, nodding in appreciation at Zelka. 'Well, except for the part about growing older. Can't afford it at my already advanced age.'

'No, I suppose you cannot. Thirty eight years is quite a lot. Would you like me to buy you a walking cane? And help you dress from time to time?'

He laughed out loud. Not only just because bantering with her usually favoured that effect on him, but also because he was relieved. So she hadn't betrayed him. Not yet, anyway. 'How do you know how old I am?'

'Checked your service records via datapad connection with the Taris public library.'

Zelka made him sit down on the bed and took out his medisensor. No one was surprised when the device beeped loudly during the scan. Carth, least of them all. The doctor started to use kolto, synthskin and other stuff Carth couldn't exactly name on his injuries. He finally processed what she had just said. 'I wasn't aware that my service records were so easily viewable.'

'They are not. Computers tend to like me, though', she winked. 'What do you think, doctor? Is he ready to walk normally again? Without his skin whitening at every turn?'

'It doesn't -' Bah, what was the point? He knew she was right. He remained quiet and waited for the doctor's reply.

'Yes', he said, gathering his supplies. 'Most of the wounds were superficial, fortunately. It's not the first time I treat one of Ajuur's duellists, so I'm kind of used to what I see here. For your information, the reason for the droids' incompetence is the fact that Ajuur is too cheap. He dilutes the kolto that they use. Good thing your friend came to see me in time. Had you left these wounds untreated, they'd have infected and left your body with severe traumas.'

'Figures. I knew the Hutt was lying to me. At least he didn't lie about the credits, though.' Speaking of which, he had to ask Livia if she knew anything about the missing credits. He waited for the doctor to leave, thanked him again as Livia paid him, and then he pinned her with his gaze. 'You don't happen to know what became of half the credits I won, do you?'

She played with the package in her hands, smoothing that which needed no smoothing. 'Actually, I do. But I wonder if I should give it to you, now that you have made it clear - again - that you are as keen to trust me as a Wookie is to bathe.'

'Not this again! I know I said we'll discuss it later, if you insist, but it's not the right moment for it. We have to go to the party and get those uniforms.'

'I know. I just like to whinge about it, is all. I would not want you to forget how much I hate that paranoia of yours.'

'I - What? Why?'

'Because it makes you uncomfortable. And that is only fair, considering how I feel whenever I remember your lack of trust.'

He laughed, despite himself. That woman had the most twisted logic he had ever seen. So twisted, in fact, that it made itself almost intriguing. He shrugged off the thought; he had to get back to business. 'So... about those credits...'

She handed him the package she was carrying. 'I have bought you something... useful. And pretty.'

'You got me something?' Stunned, he opened the package. A beautiful black and gold set of armour was inside. It seemed to be just his size. He searched her eyes. Words failed to make an appearance on his lips.

Livia fidgeted under his gaze. 'I am not sorry. I know you have worked hard to get those credits, but you really need a decent set of armour. Besides, I cannot take you with me at the Sith party dressed like that.'

'Got anything against bright orange?'

'Well, no, except for common sense. Regardless of that, orange and bloodstains do not make a good combination. And we really lack the time to wash and dry your jacket.'

She was right, of course. She also had terrible taste in colours if she couldn't find it in her to appreciate his jacket. But the armour that she had bought for him? '_Incredible_', he thought after he had went to the bathroom and changed into it. It was light enough not to hinder his movement, and it seemed capable to sustain quite a lot of punishment.

'Thank you', he said, exiting the bathroom.

'You do not have to thank me. They were your credits. It looks wonderful on you, by the way.'

Insults, he could easily deal with. Compliments? Uh, a very different kind of animal. He pondered her reply; there had to be something there that he could use to shoo away the dangerous and uncomfortable turn of conversation. 'Why did you have to torture me with that entire drama about our big team if you still have trouble behaving according to your own guidelines?'

'My own guidelines? You have not been paying attention. Which is a shame, because I really tried to keep it simple for you. My credits, your credits. Not the other way around. How hard can that be?'

He marvelled at her twisted logic again. Did she genuinely expect him to accept those double standards? He caught her hand. 'I'm not as good as you at the "big team" act, so this will have to do: feel free to consider my credits as our common fund.' He studied the amazement on her face and smirked. 'I'd just like to know from time to time where you spend them. Just to make sure that you haven't wasted them all on pleasure slaves to do your bidding.'

'Fair enough', she chuckled and withdrew her hand from his. 'How do you feel? The party has almost certainly started, so we should head there.'

'I'm fine. Zelka knows his job.'

They walked in companionable silence. Elevator, Upper City South, another elevator, Upper City North, complex of apartments. By this time, the pain in his leg, arm and stomach had grudgingly took its things and left in a huff.

'I think this is it', said Livia, checking her datapad.

'Third apartment to the right when we enter. Ready to fraternise with the enemy, then?'

'As ready as you are', she scowled. Then smiled widely. Which wasn't at all that surprising considering that Yun was coming their way. It was obvious that he had just exited the place to see if she was coming.

'Hey, you made it! I was beginning to wonder if you were going to show! The party's in full swing - come on in. And your friend, too. Sarna has been going crazy with despair that he'll stand her up.'

Yun took her hand; from behind him, Sarna was coming their way, a large grin on her face and a cup of what probably was Tarisian ale in her hand. Carth's stomach did a not so thrilled dance. '_Smile, Carth._'

'You have to try this Tarisian ale - it's fantastic! We should have conquered this planet ages ago!' she said, leading him to the bar and away from Livia.

His mouth involuntarily opened to make a doubtlessly welcome comment about how conquering planets wasn't really something to gloat over, but thankfully one of the nearby Sith officers interrupted him. 'Careful, Sarna. That wine's got quite the kick. A couple more bottles and we'll all be passed out on the floor.'

'Who cares? We're not on duty tomorrow - let's live a little! Come on - drink up!' She filled another cup for Carth and handed it to him. He pretended to drink from it, but spilled the contents in a nearby flower pot with the first occasion. Fluttering her eyelashes and patting his arm, Sarna filled it again for him.

Hours crawled with a disheartening reluctance to do so. Between Sarna cornering him on a couch, his attempts to avoid her flirts with as much politeness as possible, Sith officers dancing like mad dervishes out of control and Livia nowhere to be seen, Carth felt lovely. A special kind of 'lovely' that involved face muscles hurting from too many stressed smiles, self loathing for the hypocrisy he had to engage in, and, of course, hatred for the Sith.

He scanned the room, carefully avoiding Sarna's hand and the interesting things it was trying to do to his thigh. Most of the other Sith had fallen asleep; some of them on the floor, others on the nearby couches. A couple of them were still in their uniforms. He played with the idea to send an anonymous report to their superiors during the morning, but he discarded it. Reports could be traced. Besides, the more of them were willing to indulge in various vices, the more increased Republic's chances for a victory.

A warm hand snaked around his waist. 'You've been very quiet, handsome. What's the matter, don't you like me?'

'It's not, not that. It's just that I'm at a loss to... to understand what a beautiful woman like you sees in me.' Carth mentally congratulated himself for the way he almost didn't stammer his way through the lies.

'Awww, that is so cute!' she cooed, curling even closer to him.

Was it just him, or was she starting to finally sound sleepy? Desperation crept around him. 'Would you like another drink?'

'That'd be great. Thanks, honey cakes.'

Honey cakes? He forced himself not to recoil. He left her on the couch and approached the bar, watering the closest plant with his drink again. That will be one very drunk plant before the evening finished. Probably dead, as well. He shrugged and notified it mentally that it was all for a noble cause.

'So tell me more about you, sweetkins', Sarna said with a yawn when he gave her his drink.

Sweetkins? Sweetkins. Oh, hells! Carth inwardly implored his patience to hang on to him. 'Me? I'm actually very boring. I'd rather you told me about yourself instead.'

Heedless of his inner torment, she slithered her way on the couch until her head was on his lap. He began to stroke her hair with the hope that the regular moves will make her fall asleep faster. Sarna told him her entire life story, and another wretched half an hour passed at snail speed. Carth wondered whether he'd get to live through the night with all his mental health intact.

'So there I was, eager to face li... life and, and my new job wh... when my boyfriend -' Thankfully, he never got to find out what her boyfriend had actually done. She was finally asleep. He discreetly extracted himself away from her and replaced his body with a pillow. She didn't seem to mind. Or so her loud snoring seemed to indicate.

Time to find Livia, then. None of the sleeping bodies around the room were hers. She had to be on the balcony. So onwards he went. And stopped himself short behind the glass door when he noticed her and Yun. At opposite ends of the balcony, they were busy shouting at each other. He hid himself behind the fake ornamental tree next to the door and listened.

'Don't try to analyse me. I'm just doing my job - same as any other soldier in any other army. Besides, I don't have to explain myself to you!'

'That is true. Still, if you would only stop for a moment to actually think about what you are doing -'

'I _am_ thinking. Under Revan's orders, the Republic let the planet my parents and I were on to suffer the entire extent of a Mandalorian attack. They said that they couldn't spare the troops for aid. The Sith promised me revenge for those I loved.'

She stiffened, but did not back off. 'I regret what happened to your family, but Revan was a monster. You should not blame the actions of an individual on an entire group of people.'

'Why the hell not?'

'Because the Republic is the lesser evil out of the two. Most of the Sith are either people whose minds have been brainwashed, blackmailed or fooled into submission, or psychotic murderers bent on world domination at the price of numerous lives. You are neither. It kills me that someone like you has fallen under their power.'

Yun's shoulders sank, and sorrow radiated from him. He stepped closer to Livia. Carth struggled to hear what they were saying. 'Had I met you a couple of years ago, I... I would have probably asked you to leave the planet with me and fight for justice and puppies. But now it is too late for me.'

'Are you so past the point of no return that you will report me to your superiors?'

'Don't be stupid. Of course not.'

'Then perhaps it is not too late.'

Silence fell over the balcony like a particularly heavy blanket. Then Yun finally sighed and said, 'I don't think we have much else to say to each other. Let's keep this civil and go our separate ways, okay?'

'You do not owe anything to the Sith. Why must you be so bloody stubborn, Yun?'

He stepped into her personal space and touched her face. 'Don't cry for me, Livia. I'm not really worth it. But maybe one day, you'll meet someone who is. Think of me when you do?'

She clasped his hand and squeezed it. 'I shall. Take care of yourself, all right? If for no other reason, then because it would be a damn shame for women everywhere to lose a pretty face like yours.'

He laughed and caressed her hand. 'I may not be able to follow where you want me to go, but I'll never forget you. Thanks. For... for caring.' He kissed her cheek and turned to leave.

Carth almost hugged the tree in front of him. He really didn't want to be seen right now. His eyes followed Yun leaving the apartment. He stepped away from the tree and entered the balcony. Livia's face was mercifully dry now.

She attempted a smile, but it came out as a grimace. 'Told you so. Doomed. Star crossed. Livia actually getting a happy ending? Perish the thought.'

'You knew I was there?'

'Only imagined it when you came here. After all, where else would you be in order to make sure I would not betray you?' She strode over the distance between them and out of the balcony. 'I figure Sarna is just about my size. You can have the large suit from that thug in the corner.'

The lethargy in her voice was hard to swallow. He had to distract her from it somehow and make her focus on the mission again. Not that her rummaging through Sarna's backpack proved a lack of focus. Just that the mechanic gestures she employed in doing so were... disturbing. Not Livia-like. 'Would... would you like to talk about it?'

'There is nothing to discuss. Not unless you want to hear a speech about why life sucks, of course.'

He didn't. But neither did she. 'You can't save them all, you know?'

She stopped fiddling with the backpack, looked at him, and disbelief blazed around her. 'Why not?'

'Because sometimes people don't want to be saved. Sometimes, it is just too late. And the more you try, the worse it gets for them.'

'You talk like you have more than enough experience with facing hideous demons of your own.'

That he did, but she didn't need to know about them. His face probably spelled out what he was thinking very clearly because she sighed and rolled her eyes. 'Do not worry, I will not ask you to share. Far be it from me to care about your personal life.'

He felt like he had just kicked a small and huggable voorpak furball. And he hated it. 'Look... One day, we will have a discussion, and you'll hopefully see where I'm coming from, but this is not it. We should gather the uniforms we need and get the hell out of here. Preferably, before the Sith wake up and Sarna finds another hair-rising pet name to inflict on me.'

That got a smile on her face. Good. Melancholy did not become her. 'What did she call you?'

'Let's just say that even "pookie" would have sounded better than what she actually said.'

'That bad, huh?' She finally removed the uniform from the backpack and set it aside. Then she started to undress the Sith she had pointed at. 'Not to rant or anything like that, but you should know that there is a limit to the amount of weight I can lift.'

Carth smirked. 'Heh, I would pay a decent amount of credits to see you attempt to remove that uniform from him. Think of all the effort and sweat and how they will lead you to appreciate the helpfulness of a more well endowed partner to guide you through it.'

'Oh, for crying out loud! Very well. Brawny aggregates of brainless epidermis do have their uses. Now shut up and help me.'

'There, that didn't hurt, did it? Though I'd have preferred you to refrain from insulting my intelligence.'

'Wishful thinking, I suspect.'

'Better that than your arrogance and jealousy at my superior combat skills.'

Laughing together, they undressed the Sith before them. Had someone told him one year ago that he'd find himself in such a bizarre situation, he'd suggested to him or her to get a mental scan. Truth be told, a part of him was still doubting that all this was for real. The search for Bastila, as he initially envisioned it, involved a couple of fights, bribes and painful small talk. Duelling for credits, cleaning opponents at Pazaak for the same reason, partying with the Sith had not been in the plan. Nor had Livia's aggravating effect on him. Wonderful, fluffy, white wings would grow out of his body before he'd trust or even like her, of course, but still... It was... difficult to react with indifference to her.

He gathered the disassembled pieces of armour into the large shopping bags he had hidden on himself for this very purpose. 'It's too late to go into the Lower City. Let's go get some sleep, and tomorrow we'll try to impress the Sith guard at the elevator once more.'

Livia nodded, put her scavenged armour in his bags as well and headed towards the exit.


End file.
